“Furl the thrice-damned sheets before the masts snap,” Hephyra shouted.
Lannadae stopped singing.
“What’s wrong?” Danielle made her way toward the cutter.
“My voice isn’t strong enough. Not in this wind.” Lannadae watched the other ship approach, her eyes inhumanly wide.
By now, Morveren’s ship was close enough for Danielle to make out the broken masts and a large gash in her hull. Barnacles and seaweed covered most of the wood. Gray ropes trailed through the water behind the ship. Morveren lay at the bow, resting against the splintered stump of the foremast.
“She’s not alone,” Danielle said, spying another form beside Morveren. She soon counted more. Close to twenty figures moved about the ship.
“That looks like Nilliar,” Lannadae said. “The one with the crossed spears on her back. She was Lirea’s spearbearer.”
Danielle shook her head. “She looks human. She can’t . . .” Her voice trailed off. The shapes were still dim, but she could see the glint of scales protecting Nilliar’s body. “Morveren changed them, like she did Lirea.”
“They abandoned their queen to follow Morveren,” Lannadae whispered, staring at the other ship.
A gust of wind knocked Danielle against the cutter, which creaked from the strain. “We have to get you out of there.” She reached up to take Lannadae’s arms, helping her over the side of the boat.
Another wave crashed over the side, knocking them both down. Lannadae twisted away from Danielle and crawled toward the edge of the ship.
“What are you doing?” Danielle shouted.
“The tribe can’t hear me from here. They don’t know what’s happening.” Lannadae grabbed the rail and pulled herself up. “I need to get out of the wind.”
“Lannadae, you can’t—”
“They’re my people.” Lannadae’s tails wrapped around the railing for balance.“They’ve seen Morveren’s ship, so they know something’s wrong. They might listen to me now.”
“Or they might kill you.”
“They’ll have to catch me first.” She disappeared into the next wave before Danielle could stop her.
“She’s right.” Varisto reached down to help Danielle to her feet. “We can’t fight that ghost ship and the undine at the same time.”
“Where have you been?” Danielle asked.
“In my cabin, trying not to throw up.” Varisto grimaced. “Have I mentioned how much I despise the sea?”
The cannons thundered, and several of the figures on Morveren’s ship cried out as the
Phillipa
’s guns raked her deck. Morveren’s ship was too old to have guns of its own, but the winds’ fury increased in response. Water sprayed down so hard it felt like hail.
Danielle and Varisto made their way back toward the helm, where Snow’s magic appeared to be deflecting the worst of the air spirits. Captain Hephyra had retreated to the wheel as well, adding her strength to Beatrice’s.
“We need to board her,” Talia shouted. “Before she passes us and escapes.”
“How?” Varisto pointed to the ship. “Even if the wind doesn’t divert your grapples, they’ll likely just rip right through that wreck.”
Beatrice and Hephyra yanked the wheel, bringing the bow into line with Morveren’s ship. Beatrice gave them a tight-lipped smile. “You might want to hold on to something.”
Danielle held the ladder up to the poop deck and watched as Morveren’s ship grew closer. She could make out the individual undine standing about the deck, but where had Morveren herself gone? The rigging had long since rotted away, but swaths of seaweed and the broken remains of masts and the upper deck provided plenty of cover.
One crewman fired his crossbow, but the air spirits swept the bolt away. Talia covered her head and started toward the port rail, her body bent into the wind. Morveren’s ship didn’t even bother to turn away. Either Morveren couldn’t see what was about to happen, or else she didn’t care. Danielle tightened her grip on the ladder.
The
Phillipa
rammed Morveren’s ship at an angle, striking the middle of her starboard side. The impact flung Snow to the deck. Danielle dropped to her hands and knees and crawled toward her.
The ship shook a second time as the
Phillipa
turned to starboard, aligning with the other ship. The impact had cracked much of Morveren’s hull, but she showed no sign of sinking or taking on water.
Danielle made her way toward Snow, who was clutching her head.
“I’m all right,” Snow said, shoving Danielle away. “Go, but be careful. All of those souls, trapped and angry and lost . . . I don’t know what it will do to her.”
“Aside from making her stronger?” Danielle asked.
“Well, yes.” Snow pushed her hair back from her face. She had lost her hat during the collision. “I’ll do what I can to help from here.”
Varisto stomped past, running toward the rail. Both ships were pressed together, but the rounded shape of the hulls left a significant gap between the two decks. Now the other ship tried to pull away, but Hephyra and Beatrice kept the
Phillipa
tight beside her.
Danielle unfastened her cloak and hurried after Varisto. Talia had already crossed onto the other ship. Danielle could see her fighting two of Morveren’s undine.
“I hate sailing,” Varisto muttered. He placed one foot on the rail and leaped, crashing to the deck and drawing his weapon. Bellowing, he launched himself at the nearest undine.
Another crewman followed, only to be knocked back by a sudden gust of wind. His screams were cut off as he dropped between the ships.
Danielle looked down at the gap. Already Morveren was pulling away, and it looked as though fewer than ten people had made the jump.
“Here!” Talia kicked her second opponent in the knee and tossed her aside, then used a knife to cut a length of seaweed from the wreck. She grabbed one end and tossed it toward Danielle.
Though wet and slippery, the plant felt strong enough. Danielle coiled it around her wrist twice, prayed, and jumped.
Talia pulled, yanking Danielle forward as she flew. The wind slammed her down. Even with Talia’s help, she wasn’t going to make it. She braced herself as her body struck the side of the ship hard enough to crack the old wood. At least, she hoped that sound had come from the wood.
Talia reached down to grab her wrist, hauling Danielle on board. “If you have to fight, remember these undine aren’t used to legs. Sudden movements will throw them off-balance, and they don’t know to protect their knees.”
A quick search showed no sign of Morveren. She must have retreated below. Talia had cleared this part of the ship, so Danielle made her way over the broken deck, peering through jagged holes into the darkness below. Seeing nothing, she grabbed a crossbeam and swung down.
Talia followed, grimacing as she landed in the ankle-deep sludge. “Morveren could be anywhere.”
Danielle drew her sword. This section looked to be in slightly better shape than the upper deck. Slime and silt covered the floor. The wind was quieter here, whistling through the gaps in the hull. She slashed her way past more seaweed until she reached a round pit.
“This is probably where the capstan sat,” Talia said.
“Snow said Morveren was using the crew’s memory to keep this wreck afloat.” Danielle turned toward the back of the ship. “She’d want to keep those soul jars below, where they would be safe.”
Talia nodded and climbed down through the hole. “I don’t suppose Snow lent you an extra choker for light?”
Danielle pushed back her sleeve and studied the bracelet with Snow’s mirror. Snow had said she could use it to talk to Jakob or Armand. Would it also reach Snow herself? She closed her eyes and imagined Snow, concentrating until she had a clear image in her mind. Bringing the mirror to her lips, she planted a quick kiss on the glass, as though she were kissing her friend’s cheek.
“I’m a little busy right now!” Snow’s voice was strained. “Air spirits, remember?”
“We need light!”
“And I need a massage and a bottle of gnomish ale,” Snow shot back. But a warm light began to shine from the mirror.
The light was dimmer than Snow usually produced, but it was better than nothing. Danielle climbed down after Talia.
The sludge was thicker here, covering the wall to the left as well as much of the floor. Danielle could see tiny crabs and other creatures scurrying in the muck. Water dripped from the ceiling, and Danielle tried not to think about what else might be falling into her hair and clothes.
“Do you think she’d give us Gustan if you offered to clean the place?” Talia asked.
Danielle shook her head. “Even I have limits.”
The ship rocked to the side, groaning as though it would shatter. The sound of the two hulls grinding together raised bumps along Danielle’s skin.
“Over here.” Talia waded through filthy knee-deep water toward a rope curtain.
Danielle splashed after Talia. She couldn’t see anything in the darkness beyond the makeshift curtain. A gentle swing of her sword severed the ropes, allowing the light of Snow’s mirror to penetrate into a smaller storage chamber.
Two undine sprang from the water, lunging with short forked spears. Talia pushed Danielle to the side, moving both of them away from those spears.
Remembering Talia’s advice, Danielle parried one of the spears with her sword and jumped forward. The merman arched backward as though he were trying to swim away. Instead, he overbalanced and fell.
The merman tried to stab her from the ground, but the angle was bad, and his spear slid off Danielle’s armor. Danielle pressed her advantage, knocking his spear away.
A crooning wail made her stumble. Morveren bobbed in the back of the room, only her head visible above the water that lapped the broken edges of the floor. Danielle’s body grew heavy, as it had back when they first encountered Varisto’s ship.
The light from Snow’s mirror flickered. “Brace yourselves,” Snow said through the glass. Moments later, the room seemed to explode.
Danielle clutched her head, fighting to remain standing. This must be what a cannonball heard as it shot from the cannon. The undine fell back, and even Morveren appeared stunned. Morveren tried to sing again, but her voice was distant.
Talia threw the spear she had taken from her opponent, but the wind knocked it aside. “I’m getting tired of those things!”
Danielle barely heard. She grabbed the edge of the doorframe, pulling herself closer. The wind wasn’t as strong as she expected. Perhaps Morveren had kept only one or two spirits to defend her, sending the rest to speed her ship along. Danielle took another step, and then her chest cramped as though a giant were squeezing her ribs.
“I meant it when I said I have no quarrel with you, Princess. I didn’t want to use this.” Morveren held up a scale. “This is the scale I used to transform you into one of us. The scale knows your blood. It knows you.”
Danielle’s legs gave out. She felt herself falling, and then Talia’s arms caught her and pulled her back through the water. Talia grabbed Danielle’s wrist and shouted into the mirror. “Snow, we need some magic in here!”
“Snow can’t fight me from your ship.” Morveren’s voice was strained. “Nor will killing me end my spell on Danielle,” she added quickly, stopping Talia in midstep.
Danielle held her breath, but that only increased the pressure. Yet every time she exhaled, she had a harder time filling her lungs. Bit by bit, Morveren’s spell squeezed the air from her body.
“What did you do?” Talia demanded.
“Human lungs are such fragile things, so easily shrunken.” Morveren rose higher, sitting on the broken floor so the water washed against her stomach. “You can kill me if you’d like. Fight your way past my spirits and cut my throat. But how much time will you waste—”
“Just kill her,” Danielle croaked.
Talia sheathed her knife and grabbed Danielle’s collar, hauling her back. Danielle’s vision was starting to sparkle. She dimly saw a merman lunge toward them, only to scream and fall back as Talia rammed Danielle’s sword into his belly. Even as she suffocated, Danielle was relieved Talia had remembered her sword.
“Hold on.” Talia’s voice sounded hollow. “Snow, if you can hear me, get ready to fix our princess!”
Danielle gasped, trying to force more air into her chest. Talia tossed the sword up through the pit, then lifted Danielle onto her shoulder, shoving her onto the next deck.
Talia would never be able to drag her all the way to the upper deck. Danielle tried to speak, but her chest felt like it was crumpling inward.
Instead of carrying Danielle higher, Talia turned and hauled her toward the side of the ship. Through a haze of sparks, Danielle saw Talia step back from the hull, spin, and smash her heel through the wall. A flurry of kicks widened the hole, breaking away the rotted wood. Talia switched legs and continued to kick, splitting the outer boards of the hull.
Danielle felt herself being lifted. Her feet dragged over broken planks, and then she was falling. She doubled over as the cramps in her chest worsened. Her heart was beating so loudly she could barely hear. She plunged into the water, the shock of impact driving any remaining air from her lungs.