"What is it?" he asked.
"A nightmare," she responded tensely, not taking the lens from her eye. "Creatures of the sea, said to be of the craft. No one knows for sure, for they have only recently begun to appear. What we do know is that they hunt in packs." Then she lowered her spyglass, and Tristan clearly saw the worry on her face. "I know of no vessel that has ever survived an onslaught of three maelstroms, but I refuse to go down without a fight!"
"Maelstroms?" Tristan repeated. "What are they? What can I do?"
"You will understand all too soon," she answered, her right eye squarely against the spyglass again. "Try to stay near me or Scars! It seems that you are finally going to get your chance to show us how well you use those unusual weapons you carry across your back!"
"Can't we outrun them?"
"No," she said adamantly. "No ship ever built could outrun them at this range-not even The People's Revenge. The only course now is to stand and fight, and hope we can survive them." Then she barked out some orders to her crew, and everything began to change.
Turning to look behind him, Tristan saw that the ship had become even more alive with furious activity. Shouting crewmen were forcing the confused slaves belowdecks, while others frantically tried to close and lock all of the remaining deck hatches and stairwell doors. The rigging was covered in seamen frantically reefing the sails. One man was hurriedly tying off the ship's wheel. Tristan was only a novice sailor, but he knew enough to realize that with all of her sails reefed and her wheel tied off, The People's Revenge would be dead in the water, rocking back and forth at the mercy of the waves. After having been told repeatedly that speed was often the only thing that kept them alive, he was completely stymied.
He turned to look out over the bow again. Stunned by what he saw, he quietly drew his dreggan from its scabbard.
A vast area of the ocean lying before them had come alive. Three whirling spouts of swirling, foaming seawater had risen from the ocean, dark and foreboding. On and on the huge waterspouts rose, spinning and rising with dizzying speed. About one-eighth of a league ahead of the bow, they were already nearly the height of the ship's mainmast, and they were climbing still.
Then they began to glow strangely from within, circling colors that spun in a continuous riot of alternating hues. Had he not been told the maelstroms were deadly, he would have considered them one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.
Suddenly the glowing maelstroms flattened out at their tops, gained some distance between themselves, and then careened with impossible speed in a straight line toward the three unmoving ships. Tristan heard Tyranny's voice ring out beside him.
"Come on then, you bastards!" she screamed, holding her sword high above her head. "You filthy scavengers! Come to me! Let's see how many of you I can kill on the first pass!" When they finally reached her she began swinging her sword with abandon, and thin, watery, bright red blood began raining down.
When the first of them buzzed by his head, Tristan thought he must be seeing things. As it passed, he heard the unmistakable sound of teeth snapping together and realized that his hesitation had nearly cost him his life. Making insane screeching noises as they came, another flew by him, then more still, until their numbers finally became so great that they blotted out the sun and covered the deck of the frigate with their shadows. Viciously they attacked both the crewmembers and the rigging, tearing away those sails that had not already been reefed.
Swinging his dreggan, Tristan missed the first one, then finally managed to take one down. It was a glancing, not a killing blow, but as the dazed thing lay bleeding at his feet, he finally got a look at it up close.
He was amazed to see what appeared to be some kind of very large, very strange, fishlike creature. It was almost two meters long, half a meter deep, and very brightly colored with what seemed to be luminescent stripes running down along its sides. Instead of fins, it had three oddly shaped, scaly wings, one on either side of its colorful body, and a third rising vertically from its spine, just forward of its large, wide tail. As he watched, its mouth opened, revealing a multitude of razor-sharp teeth. Seeing that brought Tristan back to the reality of the battle raging around him. With a single stroke of his dreggan, he beheaded the monster. But he had lost precious time.
Pain seared through both his shoulders, as he was swept off his feet and flown toward the starboard gunwale. Horrified, he realized that two of the vicious, powerful things had their teeth in him and were carrying him away. He tried to use his sword, but the pain in his arms was too great. And as the gunwale grew closer, he realized what was about to happen to him, for he could see the same thing happening to a host of other screaming, defenseless crewmen.
The monsters were about to fly him over the side and drown him in the Sea of Whispers.
The sea surrounding the ship was already swirling with the bodies of those who had gone over before him. Some were still alive, flailing about, trying desperately to swim back to the ship, only to be dragged under by snapping jaws. Screaming and twisting wildly against his captors, Tristan almost passed out from the pain. But it was no use. In mere seconds he would be over the side, lost forever.
Then two massive hands reached out to take hold of the thing on Tristan's right side and muscle it down to the deck. Tristan landed hard on his back, the teeth of the other creature still embedded in his shoulder. But his right arm was free. Trying as best he could to ignore the pain, he dropped his dreggan and reached back for one of his throwing dirks. Turning wildly to his left, he plunged the point of the dirk directly into the monster's left eyeball, killing it instantly. With its death, Tristan finally found himself free of its jaws. He threw it to one side and dragged himself to his feet to see Scars standing near him, the other beast still screaming and writhing in his awesome grip.
With a single grunt, Scars tore the screaming thing in half and threw the two pieces to the deck. Giving the prince a short nod, he immediately went about finding more of the things to kill.
Wasting no time, Tristan began using his dreggan to hack the things out of the air as best as his injured shoulders would allow. Many died at his hands. Somehow he managed to avoid being taken again. After what seemed an eternity, he saw that the struggle was finally abating. His chest heaving, he walked to the gunwale and looked over. A mass of torn clothing and dead bodies bobbed on the surface of the water. Then he turned back to look at the ship.
Bodies-human and monster both-lay everywhere, and the deck was awash with blood. Several of the ship's spars were broken and dangling awkwardly from their ropes. Sails lay in tatters, completely beyond repair.
Looking across the sea, he saw that the other two ships had fared no better. The stench of blood filled the air, and a terrible silence engulfed the stricken vessels as they rocked listlessly from port to starboard and back again. After all of the screaming and noise, everything seemed strangely quiet.
Looking across the deck, his azure blood still oozing from each of his shoulders, Tristan searched for Tyranny. He finally found her standing on the mizzen deck, her face down, her sword hanging from one hand as though she no longer had the will or the strength to raise it. She was covered with blood, and as he started toward her she slowly turned to him and looked him in the eyes.