Hands reached up to clutch Direfang’s ragged tunic, and he looked down to see Mudwort’s face twisted into an ugly expression, as if she’d eaten something terribly bitter. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth just as another bolt arced down, that time lancing off the bowsprit. The Blithe Dagger rocked to its port side, spilling some of the enemy sailors, who were instantly lost in the churning water.
Mudwort murmured something, but Direfang couldn’t hear. He shrugged and cocked his head.
She raised her voice. “Can’t find Boliver! Need Boliver to help with this magic!”
The wizard was staring at her in surprise. So did Direfang. “The lightning? Mudwort made the lightning?” Disbelief was heavy in his voice.
Mudwort grinned wide. “Not all of it!Just what touches that ship. Just some of the lightning. A little is maybe enough.” She closed her eyes, and her face took on an even more pained countenance. A heartbeat later, thin threads of lightning flickered overhead and raced down to again strike the Blithe Dagger’s port side. The ship listed farther and more sailors tumbled into the sea, but some lucky ones managed to grab on to sail to keep from going over the side.
Lightning continued to flash overhead, but it stayed high. The thunder that followed shook the deck under Direfang’s feet. There were more whoops and cheers, but that time they came from the sailors on the Clare and the nearby Shinare’s Prayer.
“She’s sinking! The damn pirate’s going under!” someone behind Direfang yelled. It was K’lars, the half-ogre bosun’s mate. He clomped to the rail, shifting his balance as the deck pitched. He slapped Grallik on the back. “Wizard, you did it! You bested the Dagger!”
Grallik shook his head and opened his mouth to reject the praise, but Mudwort squeezed between the wizard and Direfang and tugged on the wizard’s trousers. She shook her head and narrowed her eyes, drew a finger to her lip, then looked back out to the Blithe Dagger.
K’lars slapped Grallik on the back again. “Captain Gerrold said it was your magic, said if anyone could save us from the Dagger’s sorceress, it would be one of her own kind.”
The wizard stared helplessly at Mudwort, who shook her head and made a shushing sound. “Tired,” she said. “Done with the magic for a time.” She sagged against Grallik’s leg.
The Clare continued to rise and fall with the waves, and despite the storm, sailors scurried from one end of the ship to the other, still working with errant lines, lashing the sails tighter, throwing extra lines around the water barrels. Orders were screamed by sailors Direfang couldn’t see. More orders were shouted on Shinare’s Prayer and The Elizabeth, the voices carrying over the waves.
Direfang turned, his back to the stern rail, fingers still holding tight. He could make no sense of all the activity, and he was still trying to comprehend what Mudwort had managed to do with her magic lightning. He would ask her about that later.
It was time to get to a safer spot. He waited until the ship rose with another high wave and braced himself. Then he pushed off the rail and wobbled toward the stairs, locking his hands to the railing as he slowly climbed down to the main deck. Setting his sights on the aft mast, he bolted for it, grabbing the lines that wrapped around it and looking for the priest or the captain.
The captain spotted him and came over, leaning down and speaking in hushed tones to the hobgoblin leader, whose face twisted. He stared out at the seas, beyond the Blithe Dagger, suddenly looking anguished, defeated. The captain whirled away to see to business.
Direfang stayed there for long minutes, feeling sicker than he’d thought possible and wanting desperately to feel ground beneath his feet. “Walk, walk, walk,” that’s what Skakee had told him the day before on the shore. How he wished he would have listened to her. The threat from the Blithe Dagger might be past, but the storm still raged, and the hobgoblin believed it was strong enough to tear the Clare apart.
K’lars stomped past him, gesturing and hollering, and Direfang had to concentrate to hear the orders. His eyes popped wide when he realized the half-ogre was telling sailors to launch the longboats.
“You can’t mean to rescue those men!” Grallik complained. The wizard had followed the half-ogre. “They’re pirates! Let them drown.”
The half-ogre grabbed the side of one of the longboats, holding it steady as several sailors waited to climb in.
“I’ve no intention of saving them,” K’lars snapped. “In fact, we’ll finish off any who’re still breathing. But the Blithe Dagger’s certain to have treasure aboard her, and that I aim to rescue before she goes under!”
Grallik persisted, tugging at the half-ogre’s sleeve. “This is madness. Remember, this is my ship! I’m paying you, and-”
K’lars looked to Direfang, who still clutched the lines. “I heard you tell Captain Gerrold the ship belonged to the hobgoblin there. And he ain’t told us to stay put. Besides, that last bit of the storm you called down on their ship blasted a wide hole. We’ve got to hurry.” The half-ogre climbed in and winched the longboat down. A second boat was lowered moments behind. Two more boats were lowered from The Elizabeth, with that ship’s sailors intent on the same goal.
Grallik staggered toward Direfang, finding a lashed water barrel to hold on to. “You should’ve ordered him to stop … told the captain to keep them all here. This storm is bad enough.”
Direfang closed his eyes and fought to stay conscious. The tumultuously rocking deck was sapping his strength and making him dizzier by the minute. The wizard continued to shout at him, but the hobgoblin shut out the words, listening instead to his own pounding heart.
“A horrible mistake,” Direfang muttered.
“What’s a mistake?” Grallik shouted.
“This. All of this. Captain Gerrold just told me that Shinare’s Prayer went down in the storm. Well more than five hundred goblins lost, wizard. Well more than that.”
DIVIDING THE SPOILS
Three survivors from the Shinare’s Prayer. All goblins. They’re below.” K’lars paced in the captain’s cabin. “It wasn’t just the storm that got them. One of the mates on The Elizabeth said the sorceress from the Dagger had done something to twist the wood of their hull, split it wide. Sorceress would’ve looted the ship, no doubt, but the storm helped it under too quick. The Dagger followed, praise Zeboim.”
“And the sorceress?” Captain Gerrold regarded K’lars.
“Nowhere to be seen. Didn’t see her in the water. Nothing.”
Gerrold sat at his table, an array of jewelry spread in front of him, all glittering in the light of a lantern that hung from the ceiling and swung with the movement of the ship. They were past the storm, but the sea was still choppy in the strong wind. Everything outside the windows still looked gray.
“She used her magic to get free, I’ll wager,” the half-ogre continued. “Maybe got some of her men free with her. Couldn’t tell if any longboats had been launched. Don’t know how many the Dagger had. We found only a few survivors, but they didn’t survive long.”
Direfang sat opposite the captain, staring at the jewelry not because he was interested in such gewgaws, but because it was something to fixate on that didn’t move. Grallik had hovered behind him for a time, but the hobgoblin had dismissed him, telling the wizard to go help Horace tend to any goblins and sailors who’d been injured by being tossed around in the storm.