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.
Light flashed from Snow’s chokers, driving the rest back long enough for her and Lannadae to break away. Lannadae leaped overboard, but Snow waited at the rail for Talia and Danielle.
An explosion cut through the silence, and the ship shuddered beneath Danielle’s feet. The Phillipa had resumed her attack.
A man in a red sash moved to intercept Danielle. Where some of the crew had decorated the cords on their sleeves with beads and other trinkets, this one wore gold coins with square holes in the center. A sparse beard shadowed his jawline.
He drew a short, curved saber, which he pointed at Danielle. Though his blade was shorter, his size made his reach a match for her own. His broad shoulders suggested greater strength as well.
“Surrender the mermaid and you may live.” Between his heavy, rolling accent and Danielle’s blocked ears, he repeated himself twice before she understood.
Danielle answered by raising her own sword. She had worked with Talia over the past year, but she was no match for a trained swordsman. She tried to circle past him, but there was no clear path. The rest of the crew were shaking off the effects of Morveren’s song. Some hurried to their posts, trying to respond to the Phillipa. Others spread out to fight Danielle and her friends.
“Talia?” Danielle called, keeping her back to the mainmast. Talia still stood at the ladder from the gundeck, keeping the men below from following while fighting anyone who approached too closely. She almost appeared to be dancing with the Hiladi crew, but each time she spun, another man fell back.
Danielle’s opponent swung, trying to beat her sword aside. The steel blade rang against the glass, jarring her wrist and forearm. Danielle sidestepped and blocked a second swing. He was trying to disarm her, not kill her. Some Hiladi men had strong beliefs against striking women. Hopefully this was a fervent believer.
Danielle pursed her lips, concentrating on his sword and his stance. She allowed her guard to fall slightly, as though she were growing tired.
He took the bait, slashing at her blade. Danielle released her grip a moment before he struck. Her sword spun away, stabbing the deck. Expecting resistance, he stumbled forward, off-balance. Danielle grabbed his sword arm and slammed her knee into his stomach. He doubled over, and she pushed him headfirst into the mast.
She wrenched her sword free and ran.
Snow pulled a sharpened steel snowflake from a hidden pocket on her shirt, flinging it at the next man who tried to intercept Danielle. He went down howling and clutching his leg. A wide swing of Danielle’s blade tore a bloody gash in another man’s shirt, driving him back. Talia dispatched a third, and then they were leaping overboard.
The impact of the water stunned her, and her sword slipped from her grasp. Danielle ducked beneath the surface, salt water stinging her eyes as she searched. There! She spotted the glass blade sinking through the water. She kicked as hard as she could, but the sword was already beneath her, falling faster than she could swim. Her chest ached, but she continued downward, even as the sword shrank away.
Lannadae shot past her. The mermaid snatched the sword and doubled back. Her other hand caught Danielle’s wrist, pulling her up and away from the Hiladi ship.
They reached the surface a short distance ahead of Talia and Snow. Behind them, the crew of the Hiladi ship appeared to be more worried about escape than pursuit. As Danielle watched, the Phillipa put another hole through the hull near the bow.
“Thank you.” Danielle’s hands shook as she took back her sword. “This is . . . it’s all I have left of my mother.”
“It’s beautiful,” said Lannadae. “I saw you fight. Would you—” She dipped beneath the water, then tried again, apparently overcoming her shyness. “Would you mind if I composed a story about it?”
Danielle smiled. “Just don’t let Armand learn how close I came to being killed by some Hiladi sailor.”
“Hiladi captain, actually,” said Snow, swimming alongside. “The red sash is a symbol of rank. He’s young for the rank, but those gold coins also mark him as a noble.”
Talia splashed them both as she swam past. “Could we chat later? You’re still within range of their crossbows.”
Danielle sheathed her sword and took Lannadae’s hand, allowing the mermaid to tow her toward the boat. “Is everyone all right?”
The water swallowed Talia’s response, but she appeared unharmed. As for Snow, she merely grinned and said, “That was fun!”
CHAPTER 7
EVEN THROUGH THE WORMWAX plugs, the sound of the cannons made Danielle wince as she climbed over the railing onto the Phillipa. The Hiladi ship was moving away, aided by a strong wind. Captain Hephyra stood by the cannons, shouting at the men to quicken their pace.
Hephyra shoved one of the gunners aside, grabbing a cannonball one-handed and ramming it home. If she could have, Danielle had no doubt Hephyra would have simply thrown the cannonballs at the other ship.
“I think she’s annoyed,” Snow commented.
The Phillipa was in far worse condition than the Hiladi ship had been. Sand and splinters littered the deck. One of the cannons had been destroyed, the wooden frame cracked and broken beneath the barrel. The dinghy where Lannadae had slept was in pieces. Several men lay groaning on the deck, and pools of blood darkened the sand.
Danielle dug a finger in her ear, trying to scrape out the worst of the worm goop. “Where did the sand come from? The Hiladi ship was covered in it as well.”
“The crew spreads it across the deck,” Talia said. “To keep the men from losing their footing in the blood.”
Danielle swallowed and moved toward the closest of the wounded crew, a man whose legs had been crushed when the cannon tore free. “Snow?”
“I’ve got him,” said Snow, stepping past.
“They’re moving out of range,” shouted one of the gunners.
Hephyra snatched the linstock from
his hand and fired another cannon. The shot fell short, splashing in the water behind the retreating ship. “Get back here, you miserable cowards! I’m not finished with you yet!” Hephyra’s breathing was hoarse, and she limped as she walked toward Danielle. “Seedless bastards came upon us without warning. I hope you found what you were looking for.”
“Morveren is with Lannadae down in the boat,” Danielle said. “Are you all right?”
“They hurt my ship.” Hephyra dropped to her knees, pressing her hands to the deck. The contact appeared to bring her strength. “Iron shot tears right through the wood, but we’ll be all right.” She looked up and shouted, “Bring the cutter on board, and get this ship ready to sail! Anyone with nothing better to do can haul themselves down to the bilge pumps.”
Danielle returned to the rail, trying to stay out of the way as the men prepared to bring the boat on board.
“Where will you be putting the mermaids?” Hephyra asked, coming up beside her.
Morveren lay sprawled in the bottom of the cutter, her head in Lannadae’s lap. She was still panting for breath, and her skin was flushed. James and Douglas remained in the boat, securing the ropes in preparation for hauling the cutter back on board.
“Morveren needs rest,” Danielle said. After living alone for so long, the mermaid would probably need time to acclimate to so many people. “Somewhere quiet and wet.”
Hephyra shook her head. “Unless she means to sleep in the bilgewater, I’ve got nothing for her.”
Below, Morveren stirred and pulled herself upright. “Don’t worry about me, Princess. I’m used to sleeping on rock and mud, remember? Tell your crew to sail southwest until you clear the rocks and the mist. Then northwest.”
“Why northwest?” Hephyra asked. “What do you hope to find there?”
“My home. If you want to find my granddaughter, there are things I’ll need.” Morveren lay back. “Food would be nice, too.”
The royal cabin in the Phillipa was smaller than Danielle’s chambers back at the palace, but even the closet was more luxurious than anything she had known in her childhood. The room was at the aft of the ship, and it even boasted a glass window looking out at the sea. Stub the cat lay sprawled on a leather-padded bench in front of the window, basking in the sun. Large cots took up both walls, and a trunk sat to one side of the door.
Morveren studied one of the cots. Her body was longer than a human’s, but the amputation of her fins meant she should be able to curl onto the mattress without too much discomfort. She grabbed the side and pulled herself up, bending her tails and tucking the stumps beneath the rumpled covers. For warmth or from shame at her deformity? Danielle wondered.
Morveren’s nose wrinkled. “This smells like birds.”
“The mattress is stuffed with down,” Danielle said.
Morveren settled back with a long, satisfied groan. “I’ll make a new deal with you. I’ll give you anything you want, and in exchange you’ll provide me with one of these beds for my own.”
Lannadae sat beside the head of the cot, her tails tucked beneath the mattress. “Will those Hiladi come after us again?”
“Probably,” said Snow. She waited for Talia to enter, then pulled the door shut behind her. “The captain of that ship was no mercenary.”
“A Hiladi ship with red sails?” Talia asked. “One that attacks without warning, firing upon a ship flying Lorindar’s colors? What else could they be?”
“Their captain was a Hiladi nobleman,” Snow said.
Danielle stared. “You said that before. How do you know?”
“I was born in Allesandria,” said Snow, digging her little finger into her ear and scraping out a chunk of wormwax. “Our kingdom borders Hilad. In my great-grandfather’s time, we were a part of the Hiladi Empire. I saw the man you fought. The honor of wearing gold is reserved for Hiladi royals. No mercenary would violate that rule.”
“Why not?” asked Danielle.
“Fear and honor. But mostly fear.” Snow sat down on the bench and scratched Stub’s neck. “The punishment for impersonating a member of the Hiladi imperial family takes a full month, as various parts of the offender are removed and fed to different sea creatures.”
“Is that where Lirea got the idea to do that?” Lannadae asked, staring at Morveren’s tails. “From her Hiladi prince?”
“Who can say?” Morveren pulled the covers higher. “Lirea is sick. I doubt she even knew what she was doing when she crippled me.”
“That doesn’t change what she did,” said Talia.
“If my magic hurt her in this way, then is it any less than I deserve?” asked Morveren.
Talia turned away. “Maybe not. But Beatrice didn’t deserve it.”
Stub stretched and stood. His ears flattened when he spotted Morveren and Lannadae. He trotted over and hopped onto the cot, sniffing Morveren’s tails.
“When I was a child, a minor prince of Hilad attacked one of our border towns,” said Snow. “My mother seared the flesh from his body, then used gold wire to lash his bones into a birdcage. She hung the cage in her throne room when the Hiladi ambassador arrived a week later. She even captured a little songbird and cast a geis to make sure he would spend the whole time whistling, just to draw the ambassador’s attention to the cage.”
She sighed. “Afterward, she gave the bird and cage to me. He used to sing every morning to wake me up.”
Silence filled the room. Eventually, Morveren said, “You had an unusual upbringing, child.”
Talia snorted. “You have no idea.”
“This makes no sense,” said Danielle. “Lirea killed a Hiladi prince. Why would another royal help her?”
“His name is Varisto,” Lannadae said, her voice quiet. “I met him once. He was Prince Gustan’s younger brother. It was springtime, and I had gone with Lirea to meet her prince. Varisto was arguing with Gustan. He left when he saw us.”
Danielle silently scolded Stub, stopping him from trying to take a bite out of Morveren’s left tail. She sent him back to his sunbeam on the bench, then asked, “Why would he attack the Phillipa?”
“You wouldn’t ask that if you had been raised noble.” Talia paced along the carpet. “Gustan’s death put him in line to inherit the empire. He might feel indebted to Lirea for helping him toward that goal. Hiladi are fanatical when it comes to repaying debts.”
“But Gustan was his brother.” Danielle knew her protests were naive. She had seen enough squabbling at court to know how far people would go for power, but knowing and understanding were very different things.
“He wants to kill me too, doesn’t he?” asked Lannadae. She had grown quiet, curled at the head of Morveren’s cot. “Lirea killed his brother, so he’ll repay her by killing her sister.”
Morveren reached over to comb her fingers through Lannadae’s hair. “I’ll never let that happen, little one.”
“I hated her for what she did to me.” Lannadae bowed her head. “I hated being trapped in that cave. Having to stay hidden, feeling afraid every time a ship passed by and wondering if each day would be the day Lirea found me. When I went to sleep in the winter, a part of me hoped I wouldn’t wake up. I just didn’t want to be afraid anymore.”
Morveren’s eyes had filled with tears. She wiped them away with one hand. “I’ll find a way to save you both.” She looked at Snow. “But I’ll need help.”
“I’ll do whatever you need if it helps Beatrice,” said Snow.
“Good.” Morveren studied Snow. “How skilled a witch are you?”
“Sorceress, not witch.” Snow grinned. “I was skilled enough to chase off Lirea’s air spirit, wasn’t I?”
For the first time since returning to the ship, Morveren smiled. “You’ll have to show me what you can do, once I’ve rested. For now I hope you’ll excuse me. That song took a great deal out of me.”
“Let me know if you need anything,” said Danielle, rising to leave. The others followed, even Lannadae, who appeared troubled. “What is it?” D
anielle asked.
Lannadae waited until the door was closed behind them. “She wants to save Lirea. I know I should too, but I don’t. She killed Levanna. She killed our father. How am I supposed to feel safe while Lirea still lives?”
Only hours before, Lannadae had been leaping and splashing in the water like a child. Now she appeared lost, haunted by fears and memories no child should have to face. Danielle searched for words of comfort, but found none.
“Did you ever fear your stepsisters would kill you?” Lannadae asked.
“Once, yes.”
Lannadae looked up at her. “What did you do?”
“I fought them,” Danielle said. “And I found friends to help protect me.” She managed a smile for Lannadae’s sake. “The same friends who are protecting you. We’ll keep you safe, Lannadae. I promise.”
Snow sat in the cutter, flirting with James as she finished off a second peach-filled pastry from dinner. One hand rested on the ropes securing the front of the boat to the deck. She smiled at James, then licked the crumbs from her fingers. He was supposed to be swabbing the rest of the sand and water from the ship, but for some reason he appeared to be having trouble concentrating.
Snow sucked a bit of fruit from her index finger. If poor James clutched that mop any more tightly, he would snap the handle. She stretched, then lay back to rest against the canvas folded over half of the boat. When that didn’t work, she crossed her legs on the edge.
James dropped his mop.
Victory! Snow fought to keep from smiling. Never underestimate the power of bare feet and a little ankle.
“So this is how a sorceress spends her time?” Morveren climbed the chocks and grabbed the edge of the cutter, grunting in pain as she pulled herself inside. She straddled the bench, resting her tails in the puddles on the bottom of the boat.
“Are you all right?” Snow asked.
“Too much time out of water,” Morveren said. “Our bones aren’t as strong as yours. We’re built for the lightness of the sea. Up here, I feel as though my bones have turned to rock.”
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