Page 5 of Of Scale and Blood

I kicked toward it and then reached out to Kaia.You there?

Where else be? No sweet water beasts here to tempt.

And thank goodness for that.While white fins didn’t actively hunt humans, there was a lot of blood and plenty of bodies in the water, and even if it didn’t attract their attention, it would eventually attract other predators.

I reached the net hanging over the side of the boat about the same time as the last of the six refugees from the burning boat and clambered up, my wet gloves protecting my hands from the rope’s salty harshness. Two people helped me over the gunwale then stepped back, letting me flop in an untidy, shivering heap to the deck. I ramped up my inner fires to chase away the chill then pushed upright. The soft murmur that ran around me was filled with suspicion and confusion, but none of them moved or even spoke to me.

Behind us, the second boat made a sound not unlike that of a dying beast, then split in two and sank beneath the waves.

The sea between us became rougher, but the bubble protecting this boat from the worst of the storm remained, meaning the air witch was on here somewhere.

“Out of my way, all of you,” came a gruff voice from the back of the crowd surrounding me. They obeyed as well as they could, given the overcrowding, and a big, bald man with a wiry red beard long enough to be plaited appeared. Though I didn’t recognize him, the ink decorating his bare arms said he was the captain of this vessel. “Who are you, and why the fuck are you dropping out the sky and the storm like that?”

“I’m Captain Bryn Silva, and I’m here to offer assistance getting your boat back to Hopetown.”

He scanned me for a second, his expression wary—and really, who could blame him for that? “How? It’s not like you came on another boat—we would have seen it if you had. We’ve barrelmen in the nest.”

My gaze shot upwards. There were two men stationed in the crow’s nest with long viewers held to their eyes. These were longer than ones we sometimes used on scouting missions, so didn’t have such a limited range but did take longer to actually focus—the one factor that made them a little dangerous for us to rely on in tight situations needing a fast response. For watercraft, however, they were ideal. The two men also stood back to back—a clever means of covering the entire three-sixty-degree spectrum while avoiding the need to move or turn too far.

“I’ll explain later, Captain, but right now, I need to speak to your air witch, and I need you to attach the strongest net you have to that old harpoon and ensure the brakes on your saker are in good working order.”

“I’ll not be doing anything?—”

“Captain, we haven’t got time to debate this.” My tone was cold and authoritative—one I rarely used but had definitely learned from all the years of watching my father deal with those who procrastinated on decisions. “We need to get underway now, before the things that attacked you come back. And theywillcome back, probably at dusk.”

He scowled but nevertheless made a quick motion for me to follow him. The crowd surrounding us parted again, though with the vessel so crowded it was hard to move with any sort of speed. The air was thick with the scent of burned flesh and despair, and filled with the sound of crying, both children and not, and the soft murmurings of those trying to comfort them all.

We reached the forecastle and quickly moved up the steps. There were perhaps a dozen people up here, and one man stood out—he was tall, thin, with silvery-gray hair that streamed behind him, caught in the stream of power that whirled lightly around his body.

The air mage.

The captain stopped to one side of him. I stopped just behind the captain, my gaze scanning the mage. His skin was pale, almost gray, his cheeks sunken, and his lips held a faint hint of blue—all telltale signs he was pushing his limits.

“What is it, Captain? I’m a little too busy for chitchat.”

The mage’s voice was at odds with the brusqueness of his words, his tone whispery and gentle. A summer breeze rather than a raging storm, I thought.

“We’ve a woman here insisting on talking to you?—”

“Yeah, well, tell her to?—”

I stepped forward with a quick, “Ah, no, I won’t, because we both know your strength will give out within an hour—at best two—now that you stand alone, and you’re not going to get this ship and these people anywhere near Hopetown in that time.”

He glanced at me. His eyes were silver and shone like the stars. “And you have a plan to fix this matter?”

“I do. In fact, I have a drakkon, and she will, with your help calming the seas directly in front of us, tow this boat to safety.”

“Adrakkon?” the captain and the mage said in unison, and then the captain added, “Has the drop into the sea addled your brains, woman?”

I mentally reached out to Kaia and then pointed a finger upward. Kaia skimmed past us, her burnished gold scales gleaming like fire in the storm’s hazy light. “The queen has decided to aid us against a common foe. And I will remind you, Captain, that I am the daughter of your king, and youwilltreat me with the deference that deserves.”

His gaze widened. He honestly hadn’t realized who I was. “I’m sorry?—”

“Captain,” I cut in, “please arrange for two of your strongest ropes to be attached to that harpoon and then use multiple others to anchor the saker down so it’s not torn out of the deck the minute she starts towing us.”

“It’s not going to be torn free—it handles white fin, so it can handle a drakkon.”

He obviously hadn’t taken in her full size. Or maybe he’d simply never seen a drakkon in flight and had never witnessed the sheer power and speed their wings could generate.

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