I breathe heavily as I face down the Vardrans. Some smirk at my imminent demise, while others look somewhat wary, probably cause of how many bodies surround me. None of them have made a move yet; they are weighing up their options on how best to approach me.
I decide to take that luxury away from them by lunging forward as fast as I can, and as they swing their weapons towards me, I drop and slide between two of the soldiers and slice their legs as I pass. They both drop to their knees.
Before I can stand, a longsword is thrust down towards me. I manage to move enough that it impales into the wood just inches from my head, and, before it can be retrieved, I kick the soldier in the face and flip myself back into a standing position.
I walk backward nimbly to try and put some distance between the enemy and me. The two whose legs I cut have managed to stand and are now hobbling towards me, and the one I kicked is holding his bloody nose. I hear shouting coming from the Zarla, and I wonder how they are faring. I don’t regret my decision to stay, but I can’t help worrying about Bay and Dusty.
The two soldiers that were behind me pounce suddenly, and I only just manage to roll sideways to avoid their attack. I recover enough to slice my blade into one, but as I do, a bludgeon strikes the back of my head. I have to use the last of my strength to stagger out of the way before I start to stumble. My ears are ringing, and my vision swims. The soldiers take advantage of my weakness and rush toward me with their weapons raised. Finally, this is the end. At least it will be quick. Behind them, I see that the two other ships are maneuvering to intercept the Zarla. I hope the crew gets out in time.
I manage to block the blades of the first two soldiers that reach me, and as the third approaches, a small throwing knife skewers his chest. The two that I’m holding off look behind me in surprise, and I use it to my advantage by knocking their swords away and slash at them with mine. I flinch as a sword glances past me and cuts their heads clean off in one swoop.
The two soldiers with the maimed legs and the one with the broken nose take a few steps back. I look up to see Cail standing tall beside me. His face is thunderous.
“Cail, get back here!” I hear the captain shout.
I curse inwardly. He shouldn’t be here. I know the captain won’t leave without him; he’s putting the whole crew at risk. Can’t he see that this is what I want?
“Cail, you need to leave,” I tell him, “let me die here.”
The Vardran who was knocked out with a turkey has woken up and is fumbling with his bow.
“I am leaving,” he growls, “but you’re coming with me.”
Before I can protest or stop him, he picks me up effortlessly and tosses me off the ship.
For a few moments, I almost just let myself fall, but then instinct kicks in, and I pull the cord to my wings. As I soar down, I take in the sight of the Zarla. The poor ship is a mess; it is peppered with holes, and arrows protrude from the wood.
My landing isn’t as smooth this time, and my legs jolt as they impact with the deck. I look up to find the captain standing over me with his hands behind his back. I expect him to start reprimanding me, but his eyes stay fixed on Cail as he lands on the deck and falls to his knees.
“Get us out of here as fast as possible, full sails with the wind! If we can’t outrun them, we won’t survive,” the captain orders, and the crew abides.
Another cannon booms, followed by the sound of splintering wood.
Captain Coldrun turns back to us. “Get to the medical room,” he instructs briskly before marching to the helm.
I look down to assess my body, but I only see a few shallow wounds, nothing that requires attention, then I look to Cail, and my heart drops. He is still on his knees, and the end of an arrow protrudes from his right shoulder blade while the bloody arrowhead sticks out from his chest.
“Cail!” I rush to his side to try and help, but he bats me away and stands shakily.
“What in Ranvia were you thinking?” he bellows.
“I just …” I struggle to find the words but then give up as I realise that there is nothing I can say to explain my actions.
“You just decided to disobey the captain’s orders and put the rest of the crew at risk. We nearly lost our ship—we still might—and for what? So you can play hero and try to sacrifice yourself!”
I flinch. I have never seen Cail this angry. I’d rather have the captain back here scolding me.
“Out of all the people on this ship, I didn’t think you’d be the one to be that stupid,” he continues.
I look up to hold his gaze, “you don’t even know me,” I say calmly. I try to swallow; my throat feels as dry as paper. His words hurt as though he has struck me, but I won’t let him see it.
“You’re right. I don’t know you,” Cail says coldly. As he moves to turn away, he grimaces, and more blood flows down his uniform.
“Let me …” I move to help support him, but he stops me again.
“No, you’ve done enough,” he says.
Freya runs out across the deck and allows Cail to lean on her as she rushes him to the medical room. Before they enter the doors, she looks back at me with a smug grin. I have given her everything she wanted.
With Cail gone, I look around at the defaced ship. Some of the crew are busying themselves with the rigging to try and pick up as much speed as possible, while others focus on cleaning up the damaged ship. The Vardran warship that I was on appears to be landing, probably because of a lack of crew, while the other two are giving chase. They trail a short distance behind and appear to be trying to flank us.
As I watch the ships I begin to feel dizzy, and I suddenly notice how much the side of my head is throbbing from where I was hit with the bludgeon. I touch the tender spot tentatively; it has swollen up considerably, but even though I want nothing more than to lay down on my bed with Bay and forget the word exists, I know I need to help the crew get out of this mess I helped create.
I am looking to get someone’s attention to give me direction on what to do when Dusty emerges from below deck and races towards me, carrying planks of wood under his arm. When he gets close enough, he drops the wood, throws his arms around me, and pulls me into a bear hug.
“I’m so glad you’re alive,” he sobs. “I was worried sick.”
“Of course, It’ll take more than a few dozen Vardrans to take me down,” I reassure him, although I don’t mention that I had planned for it to turn out much differently.
“Did my turkeys help?” he asks.
I laugh, “That was you?”
“I needed to help somehow, but the cannonballs were too heavy to load, and I was afraid of hitting you by accident. I still had the basket of turkeys, though.” He fiddles with his hands sheepishly.
I tousle his curly hair and smile. “They were a big help. Thank you so much.”
He looks pleased.
“What are you doing with that wood?” I ask.
“Me, Graham, and the quartermaster are helping Tom patch up the holes in the ship,” he replies, retrieving the wood from the floor.
“I’ll help,” I tell him.
“Shouldn’t you go and rest?” he looks surprised. “You’ve just been in a rough battle; you must be exhausted.”
“I feel fine. Come show me where the holes are.”
Dusty leads me down to the gun deck, where Graham is already working on a hole towards the bow end. I hear the quartermaster talking to Tom downstairs in the hold, and for that, I feel grateful. I’m not in the mood to be on the receiving end of more judgement.
I take some of Dusty’s wood and start patching a hole on the port side while Dusty works on one further down. Inside the engine room, it sounds like Grimsby and Leki are arguing over something, but I can’t make out their words over the loud humming and clanking of the mechanisms.
A cannonball suddenly smashes through the starboard side of the hull, causing me to fall back with my hammer. How had the Vardrans gained on us so fast? The Vardra was built for speed, according to Tom.
“I better get more wood,” Dusty says.
The captain storms down the stairs, seemingly frustrated, and heads straight for the engine room. “Why are we losing altitude and speed?” he interrogates.
I stop my hammering and strain my ears to listen.
“We’re losing valuable pressure from the front engine,” Grimsby reluctantly explains. “We think that one of the pipes might have taken a direct hit and is leaking somewhere. If we can find it, then we can try to repair it. Until then, the front propellers are slowing, and we have had to manually slow the back ones to balance them out; otherwise, we will be sent into a spin.”
“This needs to be fixed now!” the captain demands. “The Vardrans are closing in on us, and if that happens, we won’t have a ship to repair.”
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“I’ll check the pipes in the hold.” Leki scurries away. Fortunately, he looks alert this time.
“We also need to get all these holes patched,” Grimsby tells the captain. “They are causing a drag. We need the ship to be as aerodynamic as possible to pick up as much speed as possible. With all that aside, outrunning two peak-performance warships will be near impossible. You might want to consider other options.”
“What other options are there other than to die or surrender? We can’t fight these ships while they are protected by some kind of magic forcefield. Our only option is to outrun them!” the captain booms.
“This isn’t good.” Dusty appears beside me. He looks terrified. "We can't even use the balloon because the Vardrans will kill us."
Leki returns from the hold and hurries back to the engine room. “I found a leak. I can probably plug it up for now, but I need my tools,” he says, grabbing his toolkit.
I place down my hammer. “Finish patching up my hole. I need to go and see something.”
Even though my head injury makes me stumble once or twice, I race up the steps as fast as I can. The bow of one of the Vardran ships is nearly parallel to the middle of ours, and the other ship isn’t too far behind. I walk to the edge and look down; we have dropped altitude considerably. I raise my head and look at the thick, dark clouds above us. Perhaps we don’t have to outrun them.
I look for Iris, but she is far up on the mainmast, so instead, I approach Trevor, who is up on the quarterdeck shouting obscenities and firing arrows at the Vardrans.
“Trevor!” I call.
“Reh?” he turns to face me. “I thought you died,” he says.
“No, I’m very much alive.” I point to the cloud above. “What will the visibility be like in that cloud?”
He looks up briefly. “Very poor. You probably won’t see a metre in front of your face. I won’t be able to get a good shot at these bastards.”
“Perfect,” I say before rushing back downstairs.
The captain has finished consulting with the engineers and is hammering a piece of wood over the hole in the wood.
I take a deep breath. I’ve never directly spoken to the captain before, and I’m nervous, but we have no time to lose.
“Captain,” I say.
He straightens up and peers down at me.
“I have an idea that could help us lose the Vardran ships.” I try to make my voice as unwavering as possible. I don’t want to sound like a fool.
“Let’s hear it, First Blood.” He crosses his arms in front of him.
“If the engineers are able to give us enough lift, I propose that we lower the sails enough to rise quickly into the thick cloud above. The Vardrans won’t be prepared for the maneuver, and it will take them time to follow suit; by then, we’ll be out of view in the cloud coverage. Once we’re in there, we can quickly change direction. With the state of our ship, they’ll expect us to continue with the wind behind us. They’ll completely pass us by.”
The captain stares at me but doesn’t say anything, and I wonder if I have ended up looking like a fool after all.
“Let’s do it,” he says finally. “Go and relay the plan to the crew above. Have them ready to lower the sails and then raise them again as soon as we are inside that cloud. From there, we are to turn directly starboard—make sure Buckzbee is aware. I will instruct the engineers on our plan.”
With a brief nod, I hurry back to the deck. I don’t know how well the crew will take orders from me after I messed up so badly earlier, but I can’t disobey the captain’s orders twice in one day.
Not wanting to shout out the plan to the whole crew with the Vardrans being in such close proximity, I first tell Iris, who says she will relay it to Zerk and Zaret, and then I move on to tell Buckzbee and Trevor. Rat is busy patching up the holes on the deck before they cause someone to trip.
I watch as some of the Vardrans try to fire at us with arrows, but they are not very adept at aiming while the two vessels are both travelling at speed, and the wind blows them back before they can even make contact with our ship.
Within a few minutes, the captain emerges from below deck and orders Iris to lower the sails before joining the hobgoblin at the helm. Iris starts lowering the sails on the mainmast and gestures for the two brothers to follow suit.
The ship begins to rise suddenly, making me feel dizzy and nauseous. I manage to push through the sensation enough to make it to the railing. As I predicted, the two Vardran ships are lagging behind considerably.
This time, as we enter the cloud, I’m grateful for the cold vapour. It is like balm to my battered and exhausted body, and I allow myself to sit on the deck with my back against the railing. The visibility is too poor for me to see any of the crew, but the lurching in my stomach tells me that we have successfully changed course. The ship has slowed down considerably now that we are not sailing with the wind, but that shouldn’t matter if we have managed to lose the Vardrans. Though, with no way to tell if our plan has worked in this fog, it is just a waiting game at this point.
“Sefarina.”
Through the grey-white haze, I see the outline of the captain standing before me. I quickly rise to my feet, wondering how long he has been looking for me in the fog.
“Thanks to your ingenious plan, we appear to no longer have the pressure of the enemy on our tail, but the ship is still in critical condition, and there may be more Vardran warships in the vicinity. We will stay in the cover of the cloud for as long as it takes us to recover, but we will need to dock at a town or city as soon as possible to make repairs, stock up on fuel, and plan our next move. Since Cail is out of action, I will need you to take over his navigational duties. He informed me that you are a quick study, and I have faith in your abilities.”
Dread washes over me. I have only been learning navigation for a week, and I fear that Cail has better faith in me than I do.
“I suggest taking the day to rest. You must be feeling the exhaustion from combat. Do you need to be checked over at the medical room?” he asks.
“No, Captain,” I say. “I should be feeling fine after a few hours of sleep.” The last thing I want is to be in the medical room watching Cail suffer and Freya sneer.
“Very well then, make haste to your cabin, and watch your step. I fear there are still a few holes on the deck.”
“Yes, Captain.” Relieved to be dismissed, I trudge across the sodden deck back to my cabin. I had wanted to ask whether he had heard any updates on how Cail is doing, but I am still too overwhelmed by guilt to mention the incident, especially to the captain.
As I enter my room, Bay leaps from my bed and begs to be picked up. He chirps and whines happily as I stroke his head. Once he is done greeting me, he starts begging for food. Luckily I have some dried fish in my drawer that Dusty prepared for me, and I leave the otter to chew on it as I lay down on the bed.
I want nothing more than to forget everything and drift off to sleep, but the events of the day keep playing over and over in my head, torturing me. Back on the Vardran ship, I had recalled the images from the aftermath of the attack on the islands—images of my mother—to fuel my rage and help me fight until I died. But my plan had failed, and now I am left here with them etched into my mind once more. When I do finally push them away, they are replaced by images of Cail with an arrow through his body. The guilt burns inside, and I keep hearing his voice in my head yelling at me over and over.
I’m not aware that I’m shaking until Bay climbs on me and nuzzles my face. Perhaps I imagine it, but his eyes look concerned. I pull him close to my chest, and we both lay there in silence until I’m pulled into the darkness of sleep.
----------------------------------------
Emerging from the galley with a small basket in my arms, I tentatively cross the deck and enter the doors beneath the quarterdeck. Dusty had informed me that the surgery to remove the arrow from Cail’s chest was successful, but he was lucky, as it had impaled less than an inch away from his lung. Dusty also told me that Cail had been released from the medical room and is recovering in his quarters, which is where I am now.
I don’t want to disturb him by knocking, and he probably wouldn’t want to see me anyway, so instead, I leave the basket at the foot of the door and leave slowly. Graham had allowed me to use the galley once more to cook up a fresh batch of the wound healing tincture, and I had also utilised my mother’s book again to find the recipe for a herbal tea blend that helps to relieve pain and reduce any fever. I had packed them both neatly in the basket along with a mix of fruit that Dusty assured me would cure everything. I had thought about including a get-well-soon note, but perhaps Cail wouldn’t accept the package if he knew it was from me.
Back out on the deck, I stand leaning across the railing and looking out at the forest. We had docked just outside the tree line in the hope that it might somewhat shelter us from the eyes of any passing Vardrans. In the distance, I can see the town of Rimewick, where we sought supplies and materials for repairing the ship. I had also successfully found a tailor who could remove the bloodstains from my flight uniforms and neatly sew up the tears so that they are no longer visible.
I sniff the air blissfully. The sweet, damp earthy smell of the forest is new to me, back on the islands, everything had simply smelt briny. The day is reaching twilight, and the town lights twinkle invitingly. I wonder what it would be like to live here, out in the country with a wide forest and a calm, sleepy town.
After the battle with the Vardrans, and once the captain was convinced we had shaken off the enemy, Buckzbee had taken us above the cloud line so that I could see the stars and use the sextant to establish our position. I had spent the next few hours pouring over the maps and my notebook trying to understand the readings enough to work out a location. Eventually, it all clicked into place, and with a river below us for guidance, we had made it to Rimewick. As challenging as it was, it felt good to be useful for a change.
That was nearly two weeks ago. Since then, I have just been passing the time while Tom and the engineers work on repairing the ship. At least twice a day, I take Bay into the forest until we reach the part that the river runs through. He loves diving in and out of the water like a dolphin and catching fresh fish. Yesterday, Dusty came with me, and we stretched a net across to catch some for the crew. No one had mentioned my disobedience on the Vardran ship, thankfully. It’s still not something I want to discuss.
“Sef,” Iris calls out to me.
I look back at her, and she waves for me to follow.
“The captain is holding a meeting in the war room. The whole crew is to be there.”
The war room? I thought I remember Trevor saying that we would likely never have to go in there.
Confused, I follow Iris and the brothers back into the quarterdeck. The war room is situated at the very back of the hull. As I pass, I notice that the basket has disappeared from outside Cail’s door, and the sudden idea that he might be in the war room gives me anxiety.
He isn’t. The war room is bigger than I imagined, with a long oval table that holds a large mar similar to the one in the navigation room, but this one has various markers for war tactics. The captain sits in the center of the table with his back to the large, open window. Two places to the right sits the quartermaster, and on the captain's left sits Trevor. I realise that the seat directly on the right of the captain must be Cail’s. I wonder if I’m supposed to sit, and where?
Iris heads to the left, on the opposite side of the table from the senior members, and takes a seat. She pulls out the seat next to her and pats it in a gesture for me to take it. I flash her a grateful smile as I sit.
We wait as the seats begin to fill as the crew trickles in. Once everyone is there, with the exception of Cail, the captain begins.
“When we docked here, I sent a pigeon to Commander Larson in Bise telling him of our new discovery, that the Vardran ships are protected by some kind of magic barrier and are impenetrable. Today, I received a message back from him. He believes that our discovery changes everything, including which faction has the upper hand in the war. If Vardra possesses a full fleet of protected ships like the ones we encountered, they will be able to cause immense destruction and would be virtually unstoppable.”
I suck in a breath. I have already seen what the Vardrans can do without the magic. We have to stop them before even more innocent lives are lost.
“The commander believes that continuing our mission to Torver would be fruitless at this point, and he would like us to focus our attention on finding out more about what kind of magic they are using and who is wielding it so that we can come up with the best plan of action to counteract it. He has recommended that we travel to the fae city of Ravenglass to meet with the council. He assures us that the fae knows more about different magics than any other race; they should be able to advise us on how best to deal with it. He would also like us to try once more to persuade them to forge an alliance with Linaria. Despite their disdain for the Vardran tactics, they have always refused to get involved in the war, but their alliance would make Linaria insurmountable.”
I almost feel excited by the prospect of visiting a fae city. The only fae I have ever seen were the two beautiful women at the Winstar market.
“Tom, how much longer do you need to work on the ship?” the captain asks.
“Another three days should be plenty enough to have her back looking pristine,” Tom replies.
“Excellent! Sefarina.”
I whip my head up in surprise at hearing the captain call my name.
“Cail will likely be recovering for the next week couple of weeks, so you will be in charge of plotting our course and navigating until then. Three days should be plenty of time to prepare.”
“Yes, Captain,” I say.
Iris pats me on the back. “Ravenglass is about a two-week journey from here. No pressure at all,” she says under her breath.