2. Vera
Vera
Sand burst around the guards' boots as they sprinted toward us.
“What’s our story?” Starke asked, blowing a strand of hair out of his face.
I raised an eyebrow. “Story? I thought we’d just take them out.”
“I work for Saltmourne, V. I can’t go running around killing other patrol guards.”
“I didn’t say we had to kill them.”
“Just let me handle it.” He straightened and stepped forward, nodding at the guards as they approached us.
“Identify yourself,” the one with his hand on the pommel of his sword demanded.
“Gentlemen,” Starke said smoothly. “I was sent from the Saltmourne harbormaster to scout potential port locations. We think this could be a new stop added to trading routes, and—”
“There’s no record of this,” the second guard snapped. “No permission has been given for you to sail into these waters. Is that your unsanctioned ship?” He motioned back to the White Moonstone, where I could make out silhouettes of the crew scrambling around the deck.
Starke grimaced. “Define unsanctioned.”
“Starke…” I muttered.
All three guards now gripped their swords. Starke backed away slowly. “Easy, now,” he said. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”
“Show me your hands,” the first guard said, jerking his chin up at us.
Starke looked at me, and I dropped my gaze to both of our hands, which were covered in red dust from the underground caverns.
I tried to discreetly wipe my fingers on my pants, but the guard whistled at me, high and sharp.
“Bunch of filthy pirates! You’ve been looting Twin Tides property.
That’s cause to bring you into the council. ”
“Excuse me, I am not a pirate,” Starke bit back.
“Not the time,” I said.
Another boom blasted through the air. In the distance, wood splintered at the hull of the White Moonstone, falling into the sea with a giant splash.
“Hey! What are you doing to my ship?” Starke yelled.
The second guard gave a sinister grin. “That was just a warning shot.”
Starke swore under his breath as the final guard forced Starke’s hands behind his head, pulling cuffs from his belt. Another one advanced on me, and I shot Starke a glare.
“My turn?” I hissed.
He gave a dejected sigh. “Your turn.”
The guard lunged for me. I grabbed his arm and dropped to the ground, using his momentum to send him flying over my shoulder.
The next one swung a hooked blade at me.
I ducked and drove my elbow into his ribs.
He staggered backward with a grunt but recovered quickly and swung again.
This time, I grabbed a fistful of sand and flung it into his eyes.
He howled and dropped his sword, clutching his face with his hands.
Next to me, Starke jerked out of the other guard’s way, then gripped his head and slammed it down onto his knee. The guard dropped like a rock.
“Move!” Starke barked at me, then barreled into the first guard, who approached me from behind. The two went rolling across the beach in a spray of sand and fists.
The one I’d blinded with sand lumbered toward me, eyes red and puffy. “Bloody pirates,” he snarled.
“I’m not your biggest fan right now, either,” I muttered. I reached for the blade strapped to my back, but he used my brief pause to bring the butt of his weapon across my jaw. I grunted as the salty taste of blood filled my mouth.
Adrenaline and morbid excitement buzzed through me. I spat at his feet and grinned, salt and blood stinging my cracked lips. I relished it, letting it ground me as his grubby little face surged at me again.
At the last second, I feigned right, then grabbed his outstretched wrist. Yanking him forward, I shoved my knee into his stomach. The breath left him in a forced exhale. I smashed the top of my head into his nose, and a crack vibrated through my body.
He hit the sand hard. I slammed my boot on his forearm so he couldn’t reach for his weapon. “Stay down,” I warned.
He didn’t listen. With blood streaming from his nose, he grabbed my ankle and tried to jerk me down. I sighed, pulled out my own sword, and whacked his head with the hilt. He was out cold.
Farther down the beach, Starke was on his knees, panting hard with an unconscious body at his side. “Is that all of them?” he shouted.
“What, like you wanted more?” I responded, spitting blood onto the ground. I nodded to our little dinghy bobbing on the shoreline. “Come on, let’s get back to the ship while it’s still standing.”
We rowed as quickly as we could to the White Moonstone. Salty seafoam splashed against the hull. The patrol ship was several yards away, casting an imposing shadow across our sails. Over the sound of the sea, I heard our crew running around the deck, shouting orders.
“Let the ropes down for ‘em!” someone called. Starke and I grasped the rope ladder as they let it down, then scrambled up the side of the ship, boots slipping on the slick surface.
“Damage?” Starke asked once his feet were firmly planted on the quarterdeck. He yanked a spyglass from the inside of his jacket and put it to his eye.
“Starboard bow took a hit,” his first mate, Karye, responded, adjusting her tricorn as wind rippled through the deck. “But nothing vital. We can patch it up when we get back to Saltmourne.”
From the wheel, the helmsman, Lenny, cried out, “Cap’n, they’re loadin’ the cannons again!”
I followed his gaze and squinted, blocking the sun with my hand. Bright light and mist showered the nearby patrol ship in a hazy glow, but I could make out their crew crowding around the nearest cannon.
“Lenny!” Starke barked. “Turn hard to starboard!”
At the helm, Lenny muttered something under his breath but obeyed, jerking the wheel so hard the entire ship tilted. Three crewmembers slid across the deck and slammed into the rail.
Boom. The patrol ship fired. The cannonball careened right past the Moonstone’s bow and slammed into the sea a few yards ahead, exploding upward in a column of seawater. The spray soaked the sails, the deck, and my face. The ship lurched on the waves, bobbing up and down before suddenly—
The water went still. Unnaturally still.
I glanced around at our crew members’ faces, all of which were just as bewildered as I was. The men on the Twin Tides ship had also stopped moving. I saw their captain take out his own spyglass and aim it into the Imarian Sea, so I copied him and stared at the eerily calm waters.
There was a ripple, far in the distance—almost at the horizon. Like someone had tossed a rock, sending small waves out in a circle toward us.
“Retreat!” their captain called.
Confusion swarmed me. There was nothing to retreat from. No oncoming ship, no storm clouds, no threat. But within seconds, the black ship was already maneuvering away from us and back toward the island.
“What in the Fates was that?” Starke snapped, marching up behind me to peer off the bow.
A sliver of unease crept down my spine, even as our foe sped farther and farther away. It made the hair on the back of my neck prickle, like a ghost of my Shifter half trying to break the surface to warn me.
“I don’t know,” I said. My eyes stayed trained on the still waters. “But I’m not sure we should be thanking it yet.”