Chapter 37
Jarin and Drue pulled the rigging.
Soon, the cutter sped through the water in pursuit of the other ship.
“Arm yourselves!” he commanded as they steadily gained on the other vessel.
Berolt found a weapons chest on the stolen cutter and he distributed crossbows, daggers, and swords.
“You can stay on board,” said Jarin to Neve. “This’ll be dangerous.”
She selected a sleek silver sword, moonlight sliding over the blade. “No, thank you.”
The acolyte uttered an incantation and the sword glowed red, illuminating her pale face.
Jarin shrugged, and armed himself with a dagger and sword of his own. “The more the merrier.”
The four of them gathered at the bow, watching the other ship grow clearer.
“The element of surprise is probably too much to hope for,” said Jarin. “They’ll see us coming long before we can draw level.”
“I could try a Cloaking spell,” said Neve. “Mine don’t last for long, and I’ve never tried to Cloak anything as big as a boat, but I can try.”
He nodded. “Do it.”
She recited a spell, her fingertips resting on the cutter railing. When she drew her hand away, a translucent, shimmering bubble encased the ship.
“Wow,” said Drue, staring around.
“It’s not very steady,” said Neve. “I don’t know how long it’ll last.”
Berolt took charge of the rigging and Jarin steered. They drew close enough to discern movement on deck, at both the stern and the bow. From a distance, the moonlight made the figures look two-dimensional, like silver-and-black shadow puppets.
Jarin pressed steadily onward until nearly upon the ship. Disembodied voices traveled from its far side. When close enough, Jarin and Berolt lashed ropes between the railings of both vessels. As the hulls bumped together, he winced. Even with a Cloaking spell, Polinth and Artus would feel and hear the vessels colliding. They had to move fast.
“Come on,” he said, sword in hand, leaping to the other ship’s deck.
He landed on his feet, then moved aside for his collaborators.
Neve arced through the air, her flying robe like a specter. The moment she landed, the Cloaking spell failed, the translucent bubble disappearing.
“Dammit,” hissed Neve. “Sorry. I didn’t realize that would happen.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Jarin, looking back and forward, trying to discern Riella’s location. “I want Artus and Polinth to know I’m here now.”
He sprinted along the deck toward the stern, only to round a bend and crash headlong into a man. Jarin grasped the man by the throat and threw him against the wall.
“Lovel,” he spat.
“Artus!” yelled Lovel. “Artus, he’s?—”
Jarin head-butted him, blood exploding from Lovel’s nose. Two pairs of hands grabbed Jarin from behind, hauling him off Lovel. Artus was in his face, snarling at him with bared teeth, his eyes hard and cold. They shoved Jarin against the railing near the stern.
“You best hush,” said Terrick, his bald head shining in the strident moonlight. “We’re tryin’ to keep a low profile. Gots a nasty sorcerer on board, and he doesn’t know we’re here yet. We’re gonna relieve him of the amulet, once your girlfriend collects it. Nice and easy.”
Another three of Artus’s men emerged from the shadows, swords drawn and faces ugly with hate.
Lovel staggered on the spot, holding his nose. “We’re gonna cut your girlfriend wide open. Hope you know that.”
Artus directed a grunt of warning at Lovel, which Jarin supposed was all the noise he could make without his tongue. Lovel turned just in time to see Drue sneaking up on him, dagger in hand.
Lovel wrestled with Drue, subduing him, while Berolt went after Terrick and locked him in a fight. Jarin swung his elbow, aiming for Artus’s face. But the older man, as wily as a snake, ducked around him with a flash of silver.
It took several moments for Jarin to realize the flash of silver had been a knife and Artus had stabbed him.
At first, the wound didn’t hurt. The side of his body simply felt wet and strange. Then, he looked down and saw dark red spreading across his shirt.
He hadn’t meant to die yet. Drue and Berolt and Neve were in danger, and he hadn’t even set eyes on Riella. Where was she? What if she was already dead?
All he could do now was go out with a fight.
He lunged at Lovel and tore him from Drue. Artus’s other men were upon Jarin at once, wrenching him back to the stern. Jarin managed to bury the blade of his dagger in the chest of one and elbowed another in the face. He couldn’t seem to stand straight or catch his breath. It was a decade since he’d been injured and not begun healing right away. His strength was waning at an alarming rate.
The blade of a sword sliced so close to his face that he felt the air move. Jarin punched the pirate holding the sword in the stomach, then picked him up and threw him to the deck, unconscious. He couldn’t see or hear Drue and Berolt anymore, which surely meant they were dead or gravely injured.
Jarin struggled against Artus and Lovel as they closed in on him. He threw off Lovel, but Artus bore down on him before he could regain his footing, trapping him against the railing. He groped for the handle of his dagger, but Artus stuck a blade in Jarin’s back while holding him in a grotesque bear hug. The older man withdrew the blade rapidly, plunging it straight into Jarin’s other kidney.
Jarin stumbled, the sky and the vessel and the captain’s face beginning to blur and swim before him. He was losing blood, and lots of it. Death was so close that he could feel the promise of its warm embrace.
Through the darkness, a luminous angel came toward him. Then he blinked, and realized it was Riella in her pale-gold dress, running along the deck, completely unarmed. A terrified female scream came from the bow—Seraphine or Neve. The two were on their own against Polinth. Jarin had to make Riella leave. His life was already over, but hers wasn’t.
“Jarin!” she yelled.
Lovel pounced on her. She ripped her talons across his face, making him yowl. With his last drop of strength, Jarin swung his fist at Artus. Jarin connected with his jaw, but not hard enough to do real damage.
Terrick closed in on Riella, as did a bleeding Lovel and the other men. They knew Jarin was Artus’s kill, and had gone for the siren instead.
“Riella, get out of here!” said Jarin with a rasp. “Go save Seraphine and Neve!”
“But you . . . ” she said.
Her blue gaze met his, the siren torn between saving them and helping him. But he couldn’t let her remain here. With Jarin on the verge of death, Artus and these ghouls could very well overpower her.
“Go!” he shouted. “I can’t be killed, remember! I’m right behind you.”
He fought to make his voice strong and even. Another scream came from the bow, which tipped the scales. Riella had seen Jarin survive a shard of glass to the heart. She trusted him to live. He hated lying to her, but this was the last gift he could give her. A final act of love.
To his staggering relief, she turned on her heel and sprinted toward the scream.
Artus stood directly in front of Jarin. Lovel and Terrick flanked their captain, grinning like hyenas, the third man leering farther back. Artus held his sword at his side.
“We heard a whisper on the docks earlier, all the way from Velandia,” said Lovel with an excited, high-pitched laugh. “We heard your dear old mother died. Ended the curse.” He pointed at the wooden deck, where Jarin’s blood steadily pooled. “Looks like condolences are indeed in order.”
Jarin closed his eyes, the life draining from him like sand from a broken hourglass. Had his actions been enough to disrupt the prophecy? Had he taken her place by saving her just now? She had outlived him, at the very least. That was something.
Artus struck as Jarin opened his eyes again. The long blade plunged into his stomach, burning like fire. With a determined gleam in his eye, Artus leaned into the hilt, making Jarin’s insides rupture and implode.
Absurdly, he wondered how he was drowning even though he wasn’t in the water. Then, he coughed. Blood streamed from his mouth, and didn’t stop. His chest rose and fell in vain, his vision fading, and he knew he’d never take another breath.
Lovel and Terrick rammed him. Artus gripped the sword handle and when Jarin fell backward, the blade tore violently from his stomach. He tumbled over the railing and crashed through the surface of the water. His body sank quickly and silently, pulled under by the powerful current.
The last thing he remembered was endless dark blue and his love for Riella and a hauntingly beautiful Song that seemed to emanate from the waves themselves.