Chapter 60 James
James
“This isn’t going to work,” he growled, flinging droplets of blood into the water. “This is madness. It’s bullshit. It’s the worst plan ever conceived.”
But there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Ahnna would already be in the water, and if he ceased his baiting, the sharks would return to the ship while she was still within reach of their teeth.
Pressing his knife against the cut on his arm, he flung more droplets into the waves.
It seemed the purest form of stupidity to think that the sharks would notice, much less be lured, by literal drops in the ocean.
On the heels of the thought, a large gray fin cut through the waves toward the little ship.
James instinctively tensed, especially when others appeared and began to circle him, because every instinct in his body screamed danger.
But better him than her, so James reopened the cut and flung more droplets of blood into the water.
Something thudded heavily into the bottom of the boat.
“Fuck,” he hissed, because at least two of the creatures were twice as long as he was tall.
And they were watching. There was no mistaking how they turned sideways, black eyes taking in their potential meal even as their fishy brains considered how far they’d go to get it.
He threw more droplets and his heart thundered in his chest as they swam faster, their motions gaining a frenzied rhythm.
But then one of the big ones veered away.
Ahnna had said that it wasn’t just the blood that would lure them in. It was certain sounds. Most especially splashing.
Throwing caution to the wind, he leaned over the edge and slapped the water. Again and again, only jerking back as one shark rose right beneath his hand.
But the big one had returned.
“That’s right,” he snarled at it. “You keep your focus on me.”
He flung more blood into the water, counting dozens and dozens of gray shapes circling beneath him.
There was no way to know what step Ahnna was at in her strategy. No way to know whether things were even going according to plan other than the relative silence coming from the direction of the ships.
Sheathing his knife, James grabbed the covered bucket next to him, which was full of snakes that Ahnna had caught. They had been thumping around inside, and not wishing to risk a bite, he hurled the bucket itself into the water.
As if sensing the danger, the snakes immediately began swimming toward the rocks. The sharks were faster. They tore the snakes apart, and then went after the pieces floating between the shards of the bucket.
Hurry. He watched them until the frenzy began to ease, then flung more droplets of his own blood into the mix and hit the water with a stick.
The sharks slammed into his ship, setting it to rocking, but he kept up the noise.
Doing everything and anything to keep them close, but it felt like only a few minutes passed before the sharks began losing interest. As though they understood he was only baiting them, they circled away, none of his splashing or splatters of blood regaining their interest.
Fuck! He leapt off the ship onto the karst, and then scampered up the slope with no care for snakes that might be hidden in the foliage as he followed the path Ahnna showed him.
He threw up prayers to God, fate, and the stars that Ahnna was out of the water, because there was no doubt in his mind that at least some of the sharks would return to the ships in search of a meal.
James crouched on the tower of rock that faced the entrance to the cove. The Amaridians were still working to unload sacks of grain, the Ithicanians ferrying them back and forth between the ship and the bridge.
But there was no sign of Ahnna.
The sharks were circling the ships, and terror threatened to strangle James as he hunted for any sign of her.
Then motion on the edge of the beach that was more rock than sand caught his attention.
Behind a set of boulders, Ahnna climbed out of the water, wearing only her undergarments.
James stared, those long legs blasting all reason from his skull, but then she looked up.
As their eyes locked, she lifted her hands to signal that all was set. Then she lifted three fingers.
Three minutes until the explosion.
Counting down, James dragged his gaze back to the ship.
Ahnna had taken several jars from the supplies hidden in the bridge, but there was no time to explain how they worked beyond that it would blow a large hole in the hull.
He searched for signs of the bottles, but she must have placed them below the waterline.
The ship would go down fast, and Ahnna said that while the explosion would first scare the sharks off, they’d swiftly come back, drawn from miles around by the sound.
Like a cursed dinner bell.
The door to the captain’s quarters opened, and a short Amaridian man stepped out, gesturing to his first mate as he did.
The captain wasn’t alone. Walking at his side was none other than Taryn Kertell, Ahnna’s cousin, smiling and gesturing happily toward the ship full of grain. They walked slowly toward the ship’s rail and Taryn rested her hands on the ladder, about to climb over into a longboat.
James’s eyes shot to Ahnna, who remained hidden behind the rocks. She lifted her hand.
One minute.
And Taryn wasn’t moving.
The explosion itself wouldn’t kill her, but the Amaridians would see it as an attack, and Taryn was the closest Ithicanian to hand. They’d cut her down without thought.
And knowing Ahnna as he did, she’d blame herself.
He had to do something.
Desperately, James flung himself at the supplies that they’d brought up with them, including the large crossbow and bolts that they’d used to get off the bridge onto their ship. Whirling, he judged the distance between the karst and the ship.
He had enough rope, but barely.
He readied the weapon, aimed it at the mainmast, and let the bolt loose.
It soared through the air, trailing the thin cord, and sank into the mast. Several of the sailors jerked at the noise, looking up at the rope in confusion, but James was already moving. Pulling the cord taut, he secured it to a tree, snatched up one of the hooks, and jumped.
An Amaridian soldier spotted him and pointed, several more calling out in alarm. But there was no stopping now.
James flew through the air above the open water. Falling, falling, and then his feet hit the deck and he rolled. His knees screamed but he leapt to his feet. Shouldering aside soldiers and ducking under blades, he ran straight at Taryn.
Her mouth opened, eyes filling with horror and recognition as she reached for her weapon. Her machete was only half drawn as James scooped her up and jumped. His foot struck the railing and he leapt, flying over the longboat below to land with a heavy splash in the water.
Boom!
The water surged, flipping James over and over, and he lost his grip on Taryn. He lost sense of up and down, but following the rush of bubbles, he reached the surface and sucked in a breath.
The Amaridian vessel was aflame and sinking fast. Sailors leapt into the water and started to swim to shore, and James caught sight of Taryn swimming as though her life depended on it.
Which it did.
The Amaridians ceased leaping from their burning ship. Instead, they stared down at the water, expressions filled with fear.
Ahnna hadn’t lied when she said that explosions were like dinner bells for Ithicana’s sharks.
All of her instructions replayed in James’s head at once, turning to a drone of noise as his eyes fixed on the fins cutting through the waters.
Don’t be prey.
He slowed his motions, staying as still as possible. The fins shot past him, chasing after the dozens of Amaridians trying to reach the shore. The men disappeared, one after another, jerked beneath the surf so swiftly most of them didn’t have the chance to scream.
Don’t be prey.
The ship was sinking lower in the water, aided by the weight of gold and silver, and the upper decks were rapidly turning into an inferno.
The sailors and soldiers were climbing atop one another, screams mixing with the crackle of flames.
Trapped between death from fire and death from teeth.
The Ithicanians in the boats were shouting at the Amaridians to jump, to abandon ship, but the soldiers only stared at them in fear.
Everything was chaos, the Amaridians certain Ithicana was attacking them, and the Ithicanians searching the horizon for signs of attack from another source.
Don’t be prey.
If James went any more still, he’d sink beneath the waves and drown, but his skin was crawling with the certainty that he was being hunted. That was when his eyes lighted on the cut on his arm. Shallow. Inconsequential.
But bleeding.
Don’t be prey.
James sank beneath the water, and his eyes immediately latched on to a massive shark circling him.
Its gray body flexed from side to side as it swam, its white belly marked with countless old scars.
Even as fear wrapped around his chest like a vise, James recognized that this creature was old.
Far older than he was himself, and it was watching him.
He turned with the shark, vaguely seeing the ship sinking deeper. Bubbles exploded out from the vessel, and smaller splashes turned the surface to foam as the Amaridians abandoned ship. Yet the shark kept circling, ignoring the thrashing swimmers.
Then it abruptly swam toward him. James desperately needed to breathe, but he held still as the shark slowed, a mouthful of razor teeth slightly open as it passed, eyes examining him.
As though it was curious rather than hungry.
For reasons James could only blame on lack of air or temporary madness, he reached out and let his fingertips trail down the shark’s rough side.
It allowed the touch, looked at him one more time, and then exploded into motion. James watched in fascination as it bit an Amaridian man in two, swallowing the upper half, but the show came to an abrupt conclusion as hands caught hold of James’s arms and yanked him to the surface.
“Got one!”
James was dumped in the bottom of a boat, where he coughed and sputtered while the Ithicanians worked to pull in Amaridians who hadn’t yet been eaten. A half-drowned soldier was dropped on top of him, followed by another who was missing a leg and another an arm.
“It’s goddamned carnage,” a familiar male voice snarled. “Grab that one! He’s the last one I see alive!”
Half buried beneath sobbing Amaridians, James twisted to look up, knowing who the voice belonged to even before he fixed his eyes on the big Ithicanian.
Aren Kertell.
James opened his mouth, but someone stomped on his back. James shifted and tried to get in enough air to speak, but the screams from the injured Amaridians drowned him out.
Find her, he tried to say. Make sure she’s safe!
“Get to shore,” Aren ordered, and the Ithicanians immediately moved to obey as he added, “I need to speak to the other ship captain and explain that this wasn’t us. Katarina is going to think we double-crossed her and retaliate. We can’t afford that.”
Someone again stepped square on James’s back, driving the wind out of him, but then the boat bumped against the rocks of the shore. The Ithicanians began removing the injured from the boat as Aren shouted, “Someone get me a white flag!”
A female voice shouted back, “Aren, you are not going out to that ship yourself!”
More bodies were lifted off James, and he sucked in a breath to warn Aren.
To tell him that the Amaridians were no ally to Ithicana.
Aren reached down and caught hold of the front of James’s shirt, lifting him with the obvious intent to hurl him onto the bank, but James gasped out, “Don’t go out to that ship! They’ll kill you!”
Aren’s gaze, which had been on the rocky bank, slowly slid to James’s face. Recognition flared, along with white-hot rage, and before James could say another word, Aren balled up his fist and punched him square in the cheek.
James’s head snapped back, but he almost instantly doubled over as Aren’s fist took him in the stomach. “Where is my sister?”
A good fucking question, but James couldn’t get the words out as Ithicana’s king slammed him down on the rocks. “It’s James Ashford,” he snarled. “The Harendellians are here. Warn the Amaridians! There might be more explosives!”
Ithicanians went running in all directions, some shouting orders to check watch towers for Harendellian ships while others ran to warn the other Amaridian vessel.
“No!” James lifted his arm, but the Ithicanians took it as aggression and two of them grabbed hold of his arms and pinned him to the rock even as Aren’s boot took him hard in the side. “Ahnna—”
The tip of Aren’s curved machete was abruptly pressed against James’s throat. “You keep my sister’s name out of your filthy Harendellian mouth, you fucking prick!”
James ignored the stinging pain and tried to rip his arms free from those holding him down. “You need to—”
“Shut up!” Aren screamed at him, and James went still as the blade dug deep enough that he was at significant risk of breathing through a hole in his throat.
“Aren, stop!” Lara shouted, and in his periphery, James saw the queen hurrying in their direction. “You can’t kill him!”
“Oh, I think I can. I’ll show your goddamned corpse to the Amaridians and then let the sharks get rid of the evidence.
” Aren knelt on James’s chest, angling the blade so that it sliced a shallow line of fire just below his jugular.
“By all rights I should do this slowly, but I need to undo the damage that you’ve done or risk my people starving. ”
The king of Ithicana’s blade dug deeper, and knowing it might be the last thing he ever said, James shouted, “Don’t eat the—”