“Cutting out party, standby!” Ethan yelled. “Send out the hooks!”
The gun crews abandoned their posts and took up their weapons. Lines with heavy iron grapples sailed through the air moments later, snagging the rails and tangling with the lines on the Red Fish. The two ships collided, scraping their hulls against one other, and sending the crews of both fighting for balance.
Somehow in the chaos, Ethan spied Sir Gideon slumped against a far-side cannon. Whether or not the man had been killed, was mortally wounded, or simply knocked cold, Ethan didn’t know, but it didn’t matter either. With the captain no longer a factor, Ethan knew their odds of winning had just increased threefold.
“Across!” he yelled, pointing his cutlass to their foes.
His men issued a terrific war cry in response, and Marcus’s skeletons were the first to jump the rails. Each one bore a cutlass in one hand, a lit slow match in the other, and a chest stuffed packed with impromptu grenades. Though plenty of bodies littered the deck of the Red Fish thanks to Victory’s last broadside, most of the crew remained, and they charged their attackers headlong.
In seconds, the first skeleton exploded. Fragments of bone and iron shrapnel ripped through a dozen crew, dropping half and staggering the rest. A heartbeat later, the second and third skeletons vanished in blasts of their own, taking more men with them as well. Panic erupted on the deck and grew more and more as the undead bombs went off.
From atop the quarterdeck, Marcus raised his staff high with one hand and used the other to hold open Lord Belmont’s ritual book. Ancient words flowed from his mouth as he read, and dread filled the air. Bones scattered across the deck began to knit together, and the slain crew of the Red Fish twitched back to life. They staggered to their feet with groans and drew cutlass and club with jerky movements to the utter horror of the survivors.
“Maiorem Sanctifica!” Sir Gideon’s voice thundered in the air, deep and resounding as if it came from the heavens themselves.
Brilliant light came from everywhere, forcing Ethan to shield his eyes and turn away. His skin burned and bubbled, and the smell of his own cooked flesh wafted into his nose as he staggered backward. The searing pain lasted only a few seconds. When he regained his composure, he saw that half his skeletal crew, along with those recently reanimated by Marcus, had been blasted apart, their charred remains scattered across the decks of both the Red Fish and the Victory. And though Sir Gideon stood with his mangled crew ready to fight, so did the rest of Ethan’s, living and undead alike.
“Charge!” Ethan yelled, pointing his sword, launching himself into the fray. He made the jump to the Red Fish with ease, landing a good three feet into the enemy quarterdeck along with a few more of his crew.
He brought up his cutlass right as Zoey came to his side and took a quick survey of the situation. The main deck was awash in chaos, sailor fighting sailor, skeleton fighting man, and Katryna spinning a gleeful whirlwind of death in the middle of it all.
A blur of movement caught Ethan’s eye, and he spun to find a trio of sailors running at Zoey and him with two more following right behind. The group spread out as they engaged the vampires, trying to land cuts and thrusts from a multitude of angles. To their dismay and Ethan’s delight, once again, the vampire pair worked in complete concert with one another.
At first, Ethan and Zoey simply concentrated on fending off attacks, making well-timed parries and feints that defeated thrusts and cuts or sent men scrambling backward. Ethan spent a few points of luck in the process to stay safe, but within a dozen seconds, he felt their dance change. Then, without as much as a word or a nod to one another, the two vampires began setting up finishing strikes.
The first came when Zoey slapped aside one man’s blade to such a degree it left him exposed. Ethan, coming around after a parry of his own, spun with his momentum and carved a deep gash in the man’s forearm. The blow was far from lethal, but it was more than enough to get the man to drop his weapon, leaving him wide open for a thrust to the heart, which Zoey gladly took advantage of.
The next sailor fell in a similar fashion, though Ethan again had spent some luck to keep from being wounded. At that point, the morale for the remaining three dropped, and as they faltered, the third and fourth both lost their heads. The fifth died not long after, though he did put up a frantic fight and tried to regroup with the others. A slow slice across his thighs by Zoey sent him crumpling, and Ethan quickly finished him off with a thrust to the chest.
He’d scarcely pulled his blade free when the sharp cracks of musket fire filled the air. A nearby skeleton dropped, its head shattered, while Ethan’s shoulder exploded in pain.
Most troubling of all, however, was the red stain spreading across Zoey’s shirt.
Chapter Thirty-One
A New Wind
Zoey staggered sideways, and her hands clamped where her neck met her shoulder.
At that moment, every thought Ethan had vanished, save one.
“Oh, God, Zoey,” he said, pulling her back so that the two were relatively clear of the fighting. “Are you okay?”
His hands fumbled with hers as he tried to pry them away so he could inspect the damage. They slipped over her skin time and again, thanks to a combination of the blood that covered him and his nerves getting the better of him. But after a few tense seconds, the vampire took a deep breath, relaxed, and pulled her hand away.
“I don’t think it’s deep,” she said, exhaling.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
Ethan was about to ask that same question again when his eyes darted up, and he caught sight of Sir Gideon taking aim at them once more.
Throwing six points of luck into his dodge, Ethan grabbed Zoey and heaved them to the side right as Sir Gideon took the shot. The bullet flew past Zoey’s head and drilled into the deck nearby.
As the pair rolled to their feet, Ethan furrowed his brow and let slip a growl. “He’s going to pay for shooting at you.”
“And at you,” Zoey added, matching his anger with her own.
Ethan nodded, and together, they leaped up the ropes that led to the marksmen’s perch. Hand over hand they went, hearts pounding, fangs sharpening. Along the way, Marcus, from the deck of the Victory, fired shot after shot with four pistols he had stuffed in his belt. Not one landed, but they were all more than enough to keep Sir Gideon and his sharpshooters’ heads down by the time Ethan and Zoey reached the nest and attacked.
The first man, and possibly the brightest, jumped over the side. Whether or not he made it to the water or broke himself on the deck, Ethan didn’t know. His full attention landed squarely on the next, wide-eyed sharpshooter. This one tried to land a butt stroke on Ethan’s head, but he easily ducked under the blow before snapping his neck.
Sir Gideon didn’t last much longer. He tried to get one last shot off, but between the wounds he’d suffered slowing him down, and Zoey capitalizing on his distraction to Sneak behind him, he never managed to pull the trigger.
Zoey clocked him across the back of the head with the hilt of her blade. The Golden Templar stumbled forward, losing his grip on Ethan’s pistol in the process. Before it could fall even a foot through the air, Zoey had him wrapped up from behind, one hand locking the man’s arm against his back and her other hand clamped on his throat.
“I surrender!” he gasped.
Zoey narrowed her eyes. “You think that matters?”
“No, you don’t—”
That was all Sir Gideon got out before Ethan grabbed the man’s head, pushed it away, stretching his neck, and bit. Zoey followed suit, feasting from the other side. For a few seconds, Sir Gideon struggled vainly to get the two vampires off of him, but he was far too weak, and by the time they were finished satiating their hunger and healing their wounds, he was far too dead.
“He tasted like…chocolate fondue,” Ethan said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
Zoey licked her lips. “Yeah.
Kinda.”
“Not sure how disturbing that makes me to think of people as tasty.”
“Doesn’t make you disturbing at all. You’re not people anymore, remember?” she said, throwing him a wink.
Ethan drew in a quick breath and held it for a beat. “Right. Still forget that bit sometimes. So, what now?”
“We should probably get back to the fight,” Zoey said as if it were some mundane event they were begrudgingly obligated to attend.
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “I suppose we should.”
Ethan knew their actions were odd. In the back of his head, his mind screamed that then was not the time or place for such wanderings, but his heart took control, wanted to relish this peaceful moment the two had where it was just the two of them—wanted to rejoice in the fact that they both lived, especially as the image of Zoey being shot was so fresh in his mind.
With a heavy sigh, Ethan forced himself to lean over the edge of the fighting top and see what was taking place below. To his surprise, he found that the battle was over, and the remaining crew of the Red Fish had surrendered, presumably to Katryna, who stood triumphantly over them all as they knelt.
Red Fish captured!
You feel a lot more experienced.
You feel like some skills could improve after some rest.
“Ooo, I leveled,” Ethan said, brightening. “About time.”
“Nice,” she replied before draping her arms around his neck.
Annoyance then crossed his face. “Gah. I still have a set of question marks, though,” he griped. “When am I going to find out about this last mystery trait?”
“No idea,” she said, seemingly only half listening to his complaint. That thought was further accentuated when she gently took his chin and turned him away from his character sheet so she could look him directly in the eyes. “I missed you, you know.”
Ethan cocked his head. “When?”
“When you got up here without me.”
Ethan laughed, putting his hands around the small of her back and drawing her close. “That, what, whole half second?”
“It was a long half second.”
Ethan kissed her softly and held it for a few beats. When they parted, he rested his forehead against hers and smiled. “You know, I can honestly say this isn’t at all what I’d dreamed I’d be doing with the girl I’m stupid for.”
Zoey’s eyes lit up. “You’re stupid for me?”
“I…well, yeah,” Ethan stammered before giving a happy, resigned sigh. “I guess this isn’t the most romantic place to make that admission, but you know, Connected and all.”
Zoey turned to the side and shot him a playful look. “So, it’s just the game talking?”
Ethan shook his head. “No, but I figured it was an easy out if I needed it.”
“You don’t need an out,” she said. “Unless I do, too.”
“No, you don’t,” Ethan replied. His heart soared so far he felt he could walk on the stars. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there relishing the moment, but at some point, he realized things were still far from over. “We should join the others. Don’t you think?”
“No,” she replied.
“No?”
“No.”
Ethan cocked his head and furrowed his brow. “Why not?”
“Because I think you need to kiss me again, first,” she said. “You know, just to be sure this new confession of yours is real.”
The two came together, losing themselves in the moment and each other until a shrill whistle ruined it all.
“Alright, you two. Seriously,” Katryna yelled. “There are captives to deal with and a ship to repair, you know.” She paused when Maii added something, which she then repeated. “And a race to win. We’re assuming that’s still on your agenda.”
Ethan stole one more kiss from Zoey before pulling away with a heavy sigh. “It is,” he said. Ethan spent a hot moment searching Sir Gideon’s body before they left. From it, he took a small silver key that had been hanging from a chain around the man’s neck, as well as the magical pistol Ethan had taken from Lord Belmont. After that, he followed Zoey down the ratlines, half sliding, half climbing his way down to the deck. When his boots struck loudly on the bottom, he surveyed everything and everyone around.
A grimace quickly followed. His ship and his crew had seen far better days.
“I need a damage and casualty report,” he said.
“Marcus is working on the foremost,” Katryna said, pointing to the minotaur who was inspecting every inch of the Victory, grunting and shaking his head all the while. “As for crew? Maybe a third of the skeletons are left. Ten men wounded, six of which won’t be fit for duties.”
“Any dead?”
Katryna nodded, lips pressed tight into a frown. “Four.”
Ethan felt a catch in his throat. Jean’s death was hard enough on him, but he’d told himself it was one he couldn’t have avoided. They attacked them, and even though Ethan knew better otherwise, he’d tried his best to convince himself that no other lives would be in danger. But now, with four more killed, he couldn’t pretend that was the case, and he couldn’t help but wonder how many places he’d gone wrong. Hell, he could’ve at least learned something about each one who’d died. The guilt of treating them as fodder was a deep-enough pain in and of itself.
“Could’ve been worse,” Zoey said softly.
“Yeah, it could always be worse,” Ethan replied, hating the trite platitude. “We might have lost the battle and lost them all.”
“No, I guess I should’ve said, it should have been worse,” she corrected. “We lost what, almost fifty skeletons? Each one of those would’ve been someone alive had we a normal crew. Instead, we only lost four men—good men, don’t get me wrong. But only four.”
Ethan chewed on her words, and after a few moments, he nodded slowly. “True enough,” he said before his eyes scanned his men. They all were tired and bloodied but looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.
What could he say? What would he? Just a quick and simple, get back to work, and by the way, since we still have a race to finish, we might trade broadsides with Azrael or Sedra still, so I hope you have your last will and testament written?
Ethan opened his mouth to speak but stopped when he felt a tension build throughout his shoulders. Though he didn’t have an official explanation from Zoey or Narrator, he knew deep down he was about to make one hell of a Leadership roll, so he’d better choose his words carefully. It was just too bad he didn’t have enough time for an official “rest” so he could pick a talent that might help with this.
That said, these sailors were hardened, he knew. But that didn’t mean they didn’t need encouragement. And maybe he needed a little from himself, too.
“Men,” Ethan said, taking on as much of a commanding posture and tone as he could. “It’s been an honor and pleasure to sail with you all, and as we make preparations to get underway, I want each and every one of you to know that all of you have my undying gratitude, and not a single one of you will ever be forgotten, which is why it is my full intention that once we’ve won, I’ll be erecting a monument to you all, with the names of all the Victory’s crew proudly on display for all to see, especially those who made their final voyage with us.”
Nods of silent approval came from the ranks, but nothing else.
“But for that to happen, we need to cross that finish line,” Ethan went on. “So, report to Marcus. Repair what’s needed, and let’s see this to the end.”
The men scurried into action. As they did, Zoey prodded Ethan’s side with an elbow. “Not bad.”
“Thanks. I thought it would be longer, but I didn’t know what else to say,” he admitted.
“Sometimes brevity is best,” she replied. She then pointed to the prisoners who were still kneeling by Katryna and Maii. “What do you want to do with them?”
Ethan’s lips pressed together into a fin
e line as he crossed his arms over his chest and thought about his options, which seemed to number exactly two: kill them or let them go in a lifeboat. He didn’t have a brig to take prisoners, and in the end, what would he do with them? Collect a ransom? From who? And what good would it do even if he did since his only goal was to win the race?
“Snacks?” Maii suggested.
“No, Maii,” Ethan said, shaking his head. “They surrendered.”
“And?”
“And you can’t eat your prisoners,” he said.
“We both know that’s not true,” the ahuizotl replied.
Ethan groaned and rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. You shouldn’t eat your prisoners.”
“Again, I must beg to differ. Fresh is best, after all.”
“Captain!” Marcus called out, interrupting. Once Ethan turned, the minotaur went on. “We’ve taken on a few new portholes, but nothing serious other than some snapped lines. Fifteen minutes at the most before we can set sail.”
“How many skeletons can you mend?” Ethan called back.
Marcus grumbled a few seconds to himself as he counted all of the shattered and scorched bones scattered about. “A dozen, if we find favor with the Great Lord Charethes—may he always infuse my soul with his undying power. Even then, maybe not even half.”
Ethan’s eyes went wide. “Half? As in six or seven?”
“Sorry. I suppose I meant a third,” Marcus said. “Sir Gideon’s…regrettable purification spells did considerable damage.”
A few curses escaped Ethan’s lips before he reigned it in. Now was not the time to do anything but focus on what was, not on what he wished were. “She’s not going to sail very well with such a minimal crew, is she?” Ethan asked, looking to his first mate.
“Sail? Yes,” Zoey said. “Fight? Not so much.”
Ethan nodded and drummed his fingers on his side. He wondered if they’d be fortunate enough to avoid both the Griffin and The Popinjay, but ultimately he felt relying on such a thing would be about the most reckless approach he could take.
The Crew (Captains & Cannons Book 2) Page 29