For the next hour, Tarin ducked under again and again, trying to push the water aside while kicking his legs. Half the time he felt like he’d moved backwards when he finally came up for air. Still, he made steady, if slow, progress toward the ship.
When he finally got there, Archer was annoyed at having been made to wait on his sister’s orders. “We board together,” she’d said before they waded into the water.
“Took you long enough,” he said, clutching at a rope ladder used in the event a sailor fell overboard.
“Hard to drag all this muscle through the water. And these fists are like anchors.”
Archer offered a wry smile but clammed up.
“I’ll go first,” Tarin said, reaching for the ladder.
“No,” Annise said. “Sir Metz. Then Private Sheary and…” The list went on. Tarin was last, behind even Annise. “You’re the anchor,” she said when she reached his name. He glared but didn’t argue.
Above them, the others were already climbing. Impatiently, Tarin waited his turn, following close at Annise’s heels, the rope ladder sagging under his waterlogged weight. He heard feet hitting the decks, but couldn’t see what was happening. There were several shouts and then a harsh silence.
Annise clambered over the railing, and then he did the same.
He froze when he hit the deck, which was slick with water dripped by the others. He shed his own water skin, pooling at his feet, mixing with the blood that was already there.
The decks were splattered with it, as were the masts and water barrels. A sword lay discarded nearby. There a knife. A sailor’s cap, stained red. A boot on its side. Other random items were strewn about.
It was obvious what had transpired: an attack.
But where are the bodies?
That’s when he noticed the gangway linking the ship to the long pier extending into the water. It was painted with blood. The smears continued onto the wooden pier, a trail leading all the way to the quay and then up the road toward the city. Toward Moray.
“Frozen gods of the north,” Archer said. “Why did they take the bodies?”
Forty-One
Crimea, Moray Harbor
Annise Gäric
While Sir Metz and his soldiers kept watch, Annise, Tarin, Sir Jonius, Zelda, and Archer searched the ship for survivors.
The carnage continued below decks. Shattered chairs, a door hanging halfway off its hinges, blood-spattered walls, floors and even ceilings. There were several slashes in the wood, as well as a wall with a splintery hole bashed through it.
The pit in Annise’s stomach seemed to grow bigger with each room they searched.
Finally, they reached the captain’s office. “None of the gold is missing,” Sir Jonius said, gesturing at the lockbox, which was untouched.
“So not pirates,” Annise said. Her throat felt tight. I brought them here. Me. These deaths are on my head. What frozen hell have I led my friends to?
“Not pirates,” Archer agreed. They stood there staring at the walls, as if afraid to see the horror in each other’s eyes. No one offered an alternative to pirates.
After a few moments of silence, Annise was about to suggest they head back up, when a sound arose. To Annise, it sounded almost animal, like a…whimper? Tarin’s Morningstar was already in his hand, though it would be useless in such confined quarters. Archer’s sword shot up and he looked ready to stab anything that moved. Zelda’s hand tightened into a fist, her head swiveling to locate the source of the sound.
Annise pressed a finger to her lips and gestured to a closet, which was open the barest crack. Tarin tried to step toward it, but she blocked him, offering a shake of her head. She motioned with her fingers. One…two…three! She flung the door open wide and danced back three steps, ready for a fight.
“Icy gods of the north,” Archer said, moving forward immediately. The western girl shrank back from him, her entire body trembling as he held her as she cried.
She has a name, Archer had said before. Marietta.
What happened to you, Marietta?
The girl had finally stopped shaking enough to be helped to her feet and brought above decks. Her eyes darted about, taking in the wreckage and blood. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes, dripping from her chin. Archer had his arm around her. Her legs seemed to lose strength, and he helped her to one of the few seats—a crate turned upside down—not covered in blood.
“What happened here?” Annise asked. “Who did this? How did you survive?”
The girl only sobbed. “Frozen hell, Annise,” Archer said. “Give her a moment to breathe.”
“I—I’m sorry. Annise kneeled, oblivious to the blood that soaked through her britches. Slowly, she reached out and touched her knee. Marietta flinched. “You are safe,” Annise said. “We won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Her eyes red and swollen, she looked at Annise. “They—they came from nowhere. One minute we were talking, laughing, and then—they were all around us and everyone was dying, there was so much blood and I didn’t know what to do so I ran, I fell down the steps, hurt my knee, but I made it to the office and I hid, I hid while everyone else screamed and—” A ragged breath took her by surprise, shuddering through her.
Annise rubbed her knee, waiting for her to regain her breath. “Who came? Who attacked you?”
Marietta shook her head. “I don’t know how to describe them. They were like…monsters. They killed them. They killed them all.”
Annise couldn’t help but shudder at the word. She had all too much experience with monsters. A lifetime’s worth.
A shout from one of Sir Metz’s soldiers dragged her gaze away from Marietta. She was at the ship’s railing an instant later, having barely remembered standing and moving.
Beside her, Zelda said, “They’re coming back,” and began peeling off her wet sling, testing her arm.
That’s when Annise finally got a real look at the city of Moray, which cast a long shadow over the harbor. The buildings were no more than crumbling ruins, as if hundreds—no, thousands—of hammers had been taken to them. There were no signs of humans, none of the fuss and bluster Annise had expected from the largest trade port in the world.
Humans, no.
Monsters, yes.
They crept from the shadows of the buildings, their forms thick and white against the gray stone. Rags hung about their forms. Some walked hunched over, their hands nearly dragging on the ground, while other stood more erect. Larger. They all had strange humped ridges on their backs. Their heads were hairless, bones protruding in half a dozen places like stunted horns.
They all flashed sharp teeth, a guttural bloodcurdling cry emanating from the backs of their throats.
There were dozens; no, hundreds, no end to their number as they poured into the open.
“Raise anchor!” Annise shouted to no one in particular, though there were no sailors left to obey her order.
Thankfully, she had Tarin, who was an entire crew himself. He grabbed the crank and roared, drawing it back with two hands. It moved slowly at first, the chain locking tight and then, almost grudgingly, spooling back onto the wheel, turning faster with each revolution.
Hurry, Annise thought, pulling her Evenstar from her belt. The creatures seemed to pick up speed as they drew closer. Some of them sniffed the air as they ran, extending their arms and using their hands to run faster, almost like galloping horses. And, always, that ear-wrenching sound.
The anchor burst from the sea, spraying water as it rose quickly toward the railing.
“Sails!” Annise cried, but Metz already had his soldiers untying the booms and sails, the canvas instantly catching the wind and snapping like the crack of a whip.
But it was a large ship. Acceleration was slow and methodical. Still, the vessel inched away from the pier, the gangway, which had been forgotten in their haste, tumbling into the ocean.
C’mon c’mon c’mon, Annise thought, watching the creatures draw closer, spilling onto the pier, knocking each
other aside in their haste to reach the ship. Two fell into the water with large splashes, but none stopped to help them.
She could see their eyes now, dark orbs that seemed devoid of emotion, focused on one thing and one thing alone:
Their prey.
The gap between the ship and the pier had widened to almost a body length. Annise willed the vessel to pull away faster. Tarin had a different plan, hauling barrels and crates over to the railing. Zelda and some of the women soldiers fell in to help him.
Tarin, his teeth gritted, grunted as he hefted one onto his chest.
The first of the creatures reached the end of the pier, not stopping at the edge like Annise had hoped, but springing into empty air, its fingers—which were clawed, she could now see—reaching for the ropes dangling over the sides.
Tarin roared as he threw the barrel.
It hit the monster in the chest, stopping it dead in its flight. It squealed as it fell into the water.
More reached the end of the pier and jumped. Barrels and crates and other objects were flung over the railing, and Annise pitched in to help, adrenaline lending her added strength.
Many creatures were knocked into the water, but there were simply too many.
The first few latched onto ropes or gaps in the boat’s prow, their claws digging deep. They tried to dislodge them with barrels, but most missed or shattered across the creatures’ backs.
They are exceptionally strong, Annise thought, trying to analyze them without emotion. If they make it on deck…
Someone screamed, and Annise turned to find Marietta with her mouth open as Archer stood before her. One of the creatures had somehow managed to scale around the side of the boat and then clamber over the railing. It snarled, its fangs flashing glistening white. It held a curved knife carved from bone in each hand. They were stained with blood.
It attacked with the speed of a striking cobra, springing off its hind legs. Archer swung his sword with the well-practiced precision of a prince, but this monster didn’t know, nor care about, the rules of swordplay, catching the sword on the thick flesh of its forearm, dark blood spurting from the gash that appeared in its too-white skin.
It swung its bone-blades, one after another. The first caught Archer in the chest, the second in the throat. Annise couldn’t breathe as he slumped to the deck, the creature standing over him. Marietta was scrabbling back on all fours, her mouth open in a soundless scream.
Annise’s heart didn’t seem to beat anymore. She felt nothing, her entire body numb, as she stalked across the deck. There were tears in her eyes but they might’ve been rainwater for all she recognized them, blinking them away. Without commanding her arms, her hands, her Evenstar orbited her head, cutting the air to ribbons. Slowly, the creature turned, drawing its bloody knives with it.
“Annise,” Tarin growled, but his words were distant thunder, a world away.
The creature moved like lightning, ducking under her weapon’s path and slamming into her, its bone-horned head thumping into her gut. She gasped as it stabbed with knives, snapped with fangs, and landed atop her. She managed to grab the thing’s wrists, holding them back, the edges of its knives scraping the air just before her face. She could see the saliva glistening on its teeth, smell the coppery taste of blood on its tongue.
Though it was huge, larger than many of the others, she felt more than saw something feminine about it. This was an alpha female.
Just like me.
In its scarred, distorted face, she could see Archer’s death, replayed again and again and—
“Rah!” she shouted, pushing back and bringing her knees up, shoving the creature hard to the side. It rolled off her and she released it, flinging her body in the opposite direction, clambering to her feet and grabbing her Evenstar from where it had clattered to the deck.
Across from her, the creature also regained its feet, staring her with a hatred matched only by her own. Annise took a step forward and it shrieked.
She could see Tarin watching, stopped halfway to saving her.
This queen doesn’t need saving.
She took another step forward and swung with everything she had.
She noticed only the slightest widening of the creature’s eyes in recognition of the impending blow. Its head exploded as the spikes tore through it, sending flesh and blood-spatter and brain matter flying in all directions.
Its body seemed to hang in midair for a moment before crashing down.
Annise felt nothing at its death, like stepping on an ant.
She dropped to her knees, taking in Archer’s still, silent form. His eyes were open, staring at the nothing sky. His hand was gripping the sword, as if ready for the next meaningless blow. His lips were parted slightly, and Annise almost expected him to utter a quick-witted jape about death and life, something with a shred of sexual innuendo.
He said nothing. He didn’t blink. His chest didn’t rise nor fall.
It’s not supposed to be this way, Annise thought. Where were the last words, the chance to say goodbye, the opportunity to apologize for everything, to seek the forgiveness of one of the few people she wanted it from?
But, she knew, real life wasn’t like the stories. Death was sudden and final.
Shouts snapped her from her reverie. She stood, turned, and crossed the deck, dragging her gore-drenched Evenstar with her.
Tarin looked back and met her eyes and she could feel the I’m sorry in his stare. There wasn’t time for that, else they might all end up the same as her brother.
She reached his side, locked her aim on one of the creatures still trying to climb aboard, and swung her weapon.
One by one, they knocked the enemy from their flanks. Three more managed to haul themselves over the railing. Tarin killed one but suffered an injury to his abdomen. Sir Metz killed another, but not before it had ended the lives of two of his soldiers. Sir Jonius killed the third, his expression grim as it died.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the ship moved out of leaping distance from the pier. Annise expected the rest of the monsters to stop, to watch them go with angry snarls. But no, they continued to jump, falling short of the ship and splashing into the water.
Let them drown. For some reason, Annise thought they would sink. But no, their arms moved well in the water, almost gracefully, and the boat hadn’t gained enough momentum to outdistance them. Soon they were climbing onto the wooden deck once more.
They fought on, as the sun sank beneath the ruins of the city, as the thick clouds seemed to press down on their shoulders, as monster after monster hauled itself up the ropes as fast as they could cut them.
Six more breached the decks. Two killed each other as they fought over Marietta, who held a knife with trembling fingers. Tarin, despite his prior injury, slayed another. Metz and his soldiers defeated one, losing one more from their ranks. Annise, Zelda, and Jonius teamed up to kill another, though Annise suffered two long slashes, one from the creature’s bone knife on her thigh, and the other a rake of its claws across her chest. They stung like hell, but at least she was alive.
Unlike Archer.
There was only one left, though hundreds more were still in the water, swimming after the ship. Thankfully, the wind had finally done its job, the ship outrunning its pursuers as it found an easterly current.
The last creature showed no signs of retreat, gnashing its teeth and slashing its bone knives through the air as Tarin herded it toward a corner, his Morningstar arcing above him.
Annise wanted nothing more than for this creature to die, to watch its blood spill out, its lungs stop filling with air. She took a deep breath and got control of her emotions. “Wait,” she said, hating the word, the mercy it implied.
Tarin half-turned toward her, keeping one eye on his foe.
“Capture it if you can. I want to talk to it.”
Tarin raised his eyebrows in a you-must-be-mad manner, but nodded. Sir Metz joined in, flanking it with a large net held by him and Privat
e Sheary, who, much to Annise’s relief, was among the survivors.
They were the decoy, the creature retreating further, until his back pressed against a wall. The real net dropped from above, thrown by Zelda and Jonius, who’d snuck up the stairs to the higher deck.
The creature’s guttural cry roared forth as it fought its bonds, but where Annise had previously heard animal fury and meaningless garble, she heard again what she’d heard several times during the battle.
Words. The language was rough-sounding, but there was no doubt the creatures had been communicating with each other in their own way.
She watched as it tried to stab Tarin through the netting, but he dodged the blow and jammed the butt of his weapon into its head. The blow should’ve knocked it unconscious—any human would’ve been out like a snuffed candle flame—but it merely shook it off and tried to claw through the ropes. Three more heavy blows and its eyes finally rolled back, its body seeming to fold in on itself.
Annise stepped forward.
Tarin turned and said, “We will secure it. You see to your brother.”
A spike of pain in her chest. “No. I—I will help with the creature. Sir Metz, Zelda, Sir Jonius.” Three people she trusted as much as anyone in her entire world. “Please. Tend to Archer. Use all the salt we have left to preserve his…his body. If you don’t have enough, get it from the sea. My brother shall be buried in Castle Hill. He deserves to go home.”
She swallowed down bile, trying to fill the hole in her heart.
Annise set her mind and body to the work, ignoring Tarin’s concerned looks. First, they carried the unconscious creature up the steps to the main mast, manhandling it into a sitting position. Though heavy, all bones and muscle, it was smaller than the one Annise had killed, the one that’d killed…
Annise gritted her teeth, shoving more than pushing away the images.
A male, she thought, relying on intuition.