I let her words wash over me. The strength didn’t matter so much to me, only that I had my magic back. As much as I’d realized that I was worth more than just my magic, I felt complete again. Though it didn’t feel the same. And I was okay with that. In a weird way, it felt more innate because of the tie to Twig.
“How did I end up with his magic? Other creatures don’t absorb their mate’s magic. Do you think it’s because I’m human?”
“Hmm.” Beckett slid her fingers to my temples. “I think humans have a receptivity that other creatures don’t have. Just because Hallewell destroyed your magic source, didn’t mean she destroyed the receptacle—you. My best guess is that you were like an empty vessel that Twig’s magic refilled.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not sure I like the analogy, but I suppose it’s as good a descriptor as anything.”
Zak bounced on his toes next to Beckett, his hands over his mouth. She had commanded him to keep quiet until she’d completed the examination. He’d covered his mouth with his hands to physically bite back the words.
The second Beckett released her grip and nodded, Zak blurted, “Harpies’ handjobs, you know what this means, don’t you, Quinn?”
I grinned at his enthusiasm. “Yeah, I’m a wizard again. A mated wizard at that.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “No, not that. You realize you’ve been saved by the magic peen, right? It’s like straight out of a Tuuk Chingle tome.”
“Who?”
“Barnacles and blowhards, how can you not know Tuuk Chingle? The philosopher? They’ve written such classics as ‘The Buttock Scrolls: The Case of the Basilisk’s Blue Balls.’”
“Don’t forget, ‘Buttock Sexed by the Handsome Pirate High Priest.’ That’s my favorite,” Beckett added. “So hot.”
I looked between them. “You guys are messing with me.”
“Come on, Quinn. You have to know about the magic peen.” Zak shoved my shoulder.
“Uh . . .”
Zak rolled his eyes. “The magic peen! It’s a common romance trope. Poor main character suffers horribly until he’s dicked down by a handsome and powerful creature, thus curing whatever ails him. You’ve been cured by magic dragon peen!” His shoulders slumped. “Damn, how come I never fall for a guy with magic peen?”
“I seriously can’t right now.” I rubbed at my temples. I wanted to scrub this conversation from my brain. No such luck.
Twig stepped into the cabin, his face deceptively placid. “The kid makes a good point. You’re lucky my peen is magical.” His sniggering echoed through our link.
“See! So romantic.” Zak sighed, placing the back of his hand against his forehead.
“Um, yeah. So romantic.” I buried my face in my hands.
“So, let’s go out on deck and test out your magic,” Beckett said. “According to Pie and his reconnaissance, there’re four more galleons waiting for us at Cochfil Cay. We’re in no shape to take on more, unless you and Twig are prepared to mostly battle alone.”
Twig and I shared a look. “What’s the alternative?”
“We can turn back and hope that we can evade them by island hopping.”
“But you don’t favor that plan.”
“No. We’ll constantly be running away. It’s only a matter of time before they catch us. In the meantime, they can torture our families and friends in the Lower Isle. But, I have a plan.”
“That’s my Beckett.”
She blew out a breath. “A lot will depend on your magic.”
“Lead on, Captain.”
43
I stood amidships on one of the witches’ now-defunct war galleons. Two of our ships circled it as the Disreputable Prince lashed alongside. Shells littered the galleon’s main deck, the remains of the magical crew. While the sails were destroyed and the rigging needed replacing, the ship was in surprisingly good repair. Out of the several that hadn’t sunk or burned to ash, this one looked the most promising.
“What exactly do you have planned?” I called as I walked around the deck, checking out the damage.
Beckett stood with two other captains—Lore and another woman I didn’t know—conversing in hushed whispers. Beckett waved her arms around every so often, and the other two pirates seemed to alternately disagree and then agree.
Twig leaned against the mainmast, his posture relaxed. I knew he heard every word the pirates spoke. He glanced my way, dipped his chin. At least he didn’t seem too concerned.
Finally, after baking in the unforgiving sun for a good twenty minutes, they approached me. They silently shared a look, and then Beckett stepped forward. “If we can get this ship up and running, we can sail to Cochfil Cay on it. The witches won’t be expecting us on one of their own ships. We’d have to be careful to save their ships, so we can add them to our fleet. We’ll sail right up to them and take the witches out. There haven’t been more than two to a ship. That means a total of eight witches.”
“And their inhuman crew.”
Beckett grimaced. “True. But if we strike fast, we could take them without too much bloodshed.”
“So, you want me and Twig to take them out?”
“We’ll be there to assist.”
“And once we have the galleons?”
“We do the same thing at the Lower Isle. Sail right up on them. We can even pull a few of our ships behind with their flag riding our masts, so that Hallewell thinks the armada’s bringing back proof of their victory.”
I shaded my eyes from the blistering sun. “Do we have enough pirates to man the galleons? These are a lot bigger than your frigates and sloops. And there can’t be pirates up on the rigging when we get close, or they’ll know something’s wrong.”
“Here’s where we need your magic.” Beckett pointed to the aft deck. “Next to the captain’s cabin, there’s another small room. It’s where they house all the spells. The witches power them up, and then the ship connects to them. As long as the witches live, the ship’s magic runs it.”
“But I know nothing about creating golems.” I toed at a particularly big barnacle. “They’re not much good to us like this.”
“You won’t have to. If you activate the ship’s magic, it will take care of the rest.” Beckett groaned. “There’s not a lot on the war galleons in the archives, but I’ve read it all.”
I raised an eyebrow.
She shrugged. “Once a pirate, always a pirate. You never know what information will come in handy someday.”
“Good point. But each ship is tied to two witches’ magic, right?”
“I think so, yes. It only makes sense. That way, if one is taken out, the other still controls the ship.”
“So, it probably takes the strength of two witches to power up the magic.”
“Can’t say.” Beckett paced. “But I’m sure you can do it. The witches we fought were primarily offensive spell wielders, but except for one or two, most weren’t exceptionally powerful. Not that I could feel, anyway. I’d have to touch them to be sure.”
“I don’t know if it’s safe to draw that much. I’m not doing anything to weaken Twig.”
Twig stepped up behind me, quiet for such a large creature. “I told you, wizard, you’re my mate. You won’t hurt me. Our bond won’t allow it. If it’s too much, you won’t be able to draw more.”
I swallowed hard. “Are you certain?”
“I am.”
I nodded. “Okay, we can try it.”
Captain Lore shifted behind Beckett, tipped his hat back. “Y’all know this is a crazy plan, right?”
Beckett turned to glare at him. “You don’t have to take part. I never—”
“Sugar, I didn’t say I wouldn’t join y’all. I just said it’s crazy.” He grinned, looking every inch the deadly pirate. “It’s time we reclaimed the land and sea for our people.”
The pirate captain next to him nodded.
We followed Beckett to the small cabin. We could all barely squeeze inside. Black walls with a strong tar and o
il smell. No windows. No furniture, except a steel beam that rose a few feet from the floor and held . . .
“A crystal ball? Really?” Twig snickered.
Approaching the orb, I hovered my hands over it without actually touching. I didn’t want to walk into a trap. Twig squatted in front of it, his eyes switching to his dragon’s. He gazed at it for what seemed like minutes. Afterward, he took several deep breaths, scenting the air.
“I think it’s fine.”
“How do you . . . Twig!”
He’d placed his hand on the crystal ball, smirking.
When it didn’t do anything, I huffed. “You’ve got the lives of a werecat, dragon.”
I placed my own hands on the orb and sent out a tiny sliver of magic. I wanted to get a sense of how it worked. The orb lit up in a swirling multitude of colors, the glass turning opaque. I channeled a little more toward it, closing my eyes. Could I grasp the mechanism?
I breathed a sigh of relief to find that I didn’t have to be a water mage to operate it. My brand of magic worked just fine.
Still not completely clear how to pull it all together, but at least I had enough power to make it work. That I could tell. The pathways were unlike any I’d worked with before, but considering my training, this wasn’t surprising. I’d never studied naval magic in school. Never figured I’d need it.
“Captain Yardley, I need you to place your hands on the orb. It does require a minimum of two witches as a safety precaution.”
Beckett grimaced but moved forward and did as I asked.
“Now, add a little to the mix. I’ll take care of the rest.” I increased the amount of magic and could almost physically feel the orb fill with my power. A thin tendril of Beckett’s magic wove through mine. Perfect.
As our magicks combined, the globe began to glow. I closed my eyes to follow my magic as it filled the crystal. I needed to weave together the threads just so—over, under, and back over. Repeat. Beckett’s ghostly white strand and my dark blue ones making a breathtaking pattern. Almost . . . there. Got it!
Now, to tie it off.
“You can let go. I’ve got it.” Once Beckett relinquished her hold, I slid my hands around the circumference creating a tiny ring of blue fire, then withdrew. The ring sunk into the orb, and it hummed with the magic. Shouting went up from the main deck. Twig and Captain Lore sprinted out to see if they were needed. I stayed in case I needed to shut it down.
A moment later Twig poked his head back in the doorway, a lopsided grin on his face. “You did it, wizard. Come see.”
Beckett and I returned to the main deck. The barnacles slowly stuck together, piece by piece, as the shell golems reformed. Reminded me of putting together a puzzle, each shell seemingly having a place. I hoped the creatures recognized our magic and were now on our side but didn’t voice that thought aloud.
Once the inhuman crew finished reforming, they shuffled toward Beckett and me. Twig stepped close in case I needed backup. With the war hammer on my wrist and my new magic, I wasn’t too worried. They stopped in front of us, waiting.
A shout went up from the pirates.
We won the battle at Cochfil Cay before the witches knew what hit them. They didn’t have their shields erected since they hadn’t expected a battle. We docked between two enemy galleons. Twig launched himself from our deck, transforming instantly, and cut down one ship’s witches with talons and teeth before they could even muster a defense. Another fell when she cast a spell at Twig and it ricocheted back. Twig used a well-aimed blast of fire to take out the fourth. With the two disabled galleons between our ship and the remaining witches, we didn’t have to worry about our crew, and Twig and I made quick work of the other ships. Only one received minor sail damage from a witch’s last desperate attempt to defend herself.
Two days later, we rendezvoused with the rest of our fleet and an additional two frigates. The frigates had initially fled with Captain Tattersall, but after barely escaping an ambush, they changed course to join us.
Tattersall was not so lucky, his ship destroyed with no prisoners taken.
Following an intense day of planning and discussion, we set sail.
Seven days later, we sailed into Islingwall Isle with our five war galleons, each with a pirate frigate in tow, bearing the High Council’s flag on their masts, a sign of defeat. We arrived in the early hours of the morning, the sun not yet in the sky. The shell golems expertly navigated us through the port.
The wharf already bustled with workers loading and unloading ships, the port authorities levying their fees, and vendors selling their wares. On the surface, everything looked peaceful. Underneath it, tension sizzled in the air, like someone holding their breath.
Just as at Cochfil Cay, we needed to strike and strike fast. The golems steered us to the portion of the docks reserved for the witches’ armada, and per Beckett’s instructions, docked next to enemy galleons.
“I want in on the action.” Zak stomped his foot. We’d been through this several times now.
“And you will be, from the safety of the ship. You can man a bow chaser. There’s no reason for you to engage the City Patrol in hand-to-hand.”
“You sound like Twig,” he groused. “Why do you always get to be involved? Even when you didn’t have magic, you got to play hero.”
“That you see it as playing hero only confirms my decision to keep you aboard.”
“Arg! There are pirates younger than me that are going into the thick of things. I’m not helpless!”
“Kid,” Twig strode over to where we argued. “There’s a time and place for everything. Right now, we need you here. End of story.”
Zak opened his mouth to argue, but Twig held up a claw-tipped finger. “Enough.”
He turned on his heel. “Well, good luck then. Hope someone has your back,” Zak called over his shoulder.
“Zak—”
“Nope. Don’t wanna hear it.” He stomped out of the cabin.
Goddesses save me from stubborn teens.
Soon, our galleon, which Twig jokingly called Quinn’s Revenge, wedged itself between two enemy ships—one a full-on battle galleon, the other a little less heavily armored but still formidable. I wasn’t worried. As we berthed, a few shell golems climbed down both sides of our ships and leapt to the adjoining ones. They continued up the sides and soon disappeared onto the decks of the enemy galleons.
I hoped the witches wouldn’t recognize them as a threat until too late. In the meantime, we waited, keeping ourselves from the sight of the port authorities and letting the shell golems prepare us for disembarking.
Each ship had at least one pirate dressed up in the witches’ naval uniform, so that—from afar—they’d pass for the ship’s witch. Beckett looked formidable decked out in a deep purple vest and matching ankle-banded trousers. Fortunately they didn’t puff out at the knee like the citadel uniforms. The low black boots, also didn’t have as pronounced a curl to the tips, and the large brimmed hat had a jaunty purple feather that served to hide the face.
Beckett stood on the bow of Quinn’s Revenge and waved cheekily to the port authorities. Several golems surrounded a group of pirates, their hands “tied” behind their backs. We’d had to get pretty creative to hide their cutlasses. We’d be doing a prisoner exchange soon. Only not the one the City Patrol would be expecting.
We’d need to subdue the City Patrol quickly before moving on to the citadel. The Patrol had to have other witches, but we hoped none as strong or well-seasoned as Commander Graves. I didn’t want to kill her, but I would if necessary.
Three full battalions, sixty patrol members for each ship, waited for all docking procedures to be complete, and when the gangplank lowered, the shell golems moved forward with the fake prisoners, herding them off the ship and toward the waiting guards.
From the middle of our group of fake prisoners, I caught sight of bright golden hair. Zak! He glanced back as if he could feel my glare. He smirked, gave me a nod.
I was going
to kill him!
Twig grabbed my arm to keep me from going after him. “Damn, kid. Definitely related to you.”
“Not the time for jokes, dragon. That’s my little brother on the front line.” I clenched my fists. I’d have to hope he’d be okay until I could make my way to him.
I wanted to stay with Twig, but we each had different tasks to accomplish. After taking a calming breath, I stepped into the open, surrounded by a ring of shell golems. Beckett approached and led us off the ship in her role as captor. Gasps from the City Patrol and mutterings from a quickly gathering crowd echoed off the water. I couldn’t see Two-Toes but knew he was in the fray somewhere. A flock of black and white seagulls flew lazily overhead.
The golems remained tied to the ships as well as the witch, so we couldn’t move too far from the galleons. Beckett halted our progress. She didn’t have to wait long. A swath cleared between the townsfolk and Patrol. Commander Graves approached, as well as Cora with a company of citadel guards. My stomach lurched at seeing Cora. Even after her betrayal, I couldn’t hurt her. Beckett stiffened when she saw them coming.
“The traitor knows what I look like,” Beckett whispered.
Son of a banshee. Just our luck.
44
I pretended to struggle in my bonds, keeping Cora’s eyes on me. She’d tilted her chin at a haughty angle. To anyone else, she probably looked forceful, but she couldn’t hide her fragility from me. I’d originally done my best to look defeated, but she’d known me since I was a mere boy. I couldn’t fool her any more than she could fool me.
So instead, I straightened my shoulders and glared. That she’d believe. Grave’s pace slowed, a little warier now, sensing the undercurrents. She scanned the horizon. After all, where I went, Twig would soon follow.
Smart woman. We waited for them to come the final distance, closing the trap. I couldn’t look around to see if everyone made it to their positions. I’d have to hope that enough had. We’d waited as long as possible to disembark, but we couldn’t afford to have the Patrol become suspicious.
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