Page 7 of Of Scale and Blood

Meaning, no doubt, that just like at Illistin—Jakarra’s main settlement—her fighting force had held the line as best they could while the retreat continued. And, just like at Illistin, they’d most likely paid the ultimate price. I frowned. “Didn’t you receive the missive from my father warning of the attack on Eastmead and the possibility of an ongoing threat to all five islands?”

“Not as far as I’m aware, but then, I am but a sea captain and not privy to security information.”

“But you’ve scribe quills on this boat, have you not?”

They might not have been able to use scribes in the mountain caverns, but if they’d docked these boats in a safe harbor, they should have been able to contact Esan about their plight when they were boarding everyone. We might not have been able to send help, but we could have at least warned Hopetown to get ready for evacuees.

“No,” he said. “What point are they in a fishing vessel such as this?”

“But if you sink?—”

“If sea or storm sinks us, despite the service of our mages, there is little point in scribing for help. Rescue would never reach us in time.”

All of which was likely true, but it never stopped us sending our fleet out with tracking stonesandscribe pens. “But surely given you were evacuating the young and the old?—”

“I don’t question my orders, Captain Silva. I just do.”

Amusement teased my lips. Questioning orders was something I wasn’t afraid to do, especially when I could see no sense in them. But that was my father’s blood coming out in me. “What of Jacklyn’s fate? She’s the new governor there, is she not?”

“She’s the one who ordered the evac. A stock take revealed we simply didn’t have the necessary supplies for a long stay, and when the winged bastards attacked the entrance, we thought it best to get the noncombatants out of there.”

“Then Jacklyn’s here somewhere?”

“Of course not. She stayed with those who are fight capable.” He glanced at me. “Why didn’t Esan send boats our way? Given you obviously knew about the attack on Jakarra, why were we forced to risk evacuation without the help of the galleons?”

“The galleons, even when fully manned by air mages, would be too slow to reach any form of safety by the time the winged riders come back out. Until we find a means of countering their weapons, it’s too risky using them for longer sea journeys.” I paused. “Why were those two other ships on fire?”

He grimaced. “The riders sent some sort of brown fiery liquid streaming our way. It hit the wooden decks and spread like wildfire. This boat survived because we were the farthest away, and that gave Sam here time to create a wind shield and blast both them and their streams of fire away from us.”

We were well aware that the liquified form of their gilded birds’ shit was not only acidic but also explosive—Damon and I had barely escaped such an explosion in one of the caverns that littered the blue vein tunnels above Esan—but the news that they could deliberately use it as what amounted to a fire stream definitely wasn’t good news.

“Is that why your sails were down? As a precaution?”

“Yes. As I said, we were far enough away from the other two to react proactively.”

Someone shouted his name; he turned, then gave me a nod and left to attend whatever problem had arisen. I ducked under the rope anchoring the saker and stood beside Sam. I didn’t say anything. I simply crossed my arms and watched Kaia pull us through the still seas for the next few hours.

By the time we neared the heads—which were basically the “foot and toes” section of the Sinopa Pass’s longer leg—the storm beyond our bubble had eased dramatically, and the seas had calmed. We weren’t all that far away from Hopetown now, which was a damn good thing given the weariness that filled the link between me and Kaia. Sam was almost skeletal, and I suspected the only reason he was still standing was the constant supply of greenish goop he was drinking every half hour or so. It reminded me somewhat of the stamina potion Maree—Esan’s chief sickness “diviner,” and an herbalist who was second to none—had given to both me and Damon to not only stave off sleep but to ensure we had the strength to finally consummate our marriage in a satisfactory manner—satisfactory, in her terms, meaning over many hours.

The potion had definitely worked as advertised.

As the shadows of the night closed in, faint wisps of pink stained the distant horizon, lending a warm glow to otherwise stark foothills that lined the shores. In the sky above, I caught the faintest glimmer of red and wondered if drakkons hunted high.

Are, came Kaia’s weary thought.

Maybe you should join them, I said.

Will. You?

Can hunker down the night in Hopetown.

Safe?

As long as the gilded riders don’t attack, it should be.

From behind us came a sharp tearing sound. I spun and saw one of the ropes Kaia was using to pull the boat snap past the prow on the starboard side, taking out the saker’s right arm and two men on the way through. But it wasn’t only the rope that had snapped—the planks around the saker’s base were now cracking and lifting. The ropes leashing it to the gunwale cleats continued to hold it in place, but if the strengthened planks under the saker’s base were beginning to give, the gunwale surely couldn’t be far behind.

The captain shouted orders for more ropes but even as men ran to obey, the cleats on both sides shattered and the ropes tore free; the saker catapulted forward, past the prow and into the water, bouncing across the glassy smoothness like a rock being skipped.

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