Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(5)

She already said that, Evan thought, and Captain Strangward said it. Who is she trying to convince?

“If you meant to start a war with me, you should have destroyed them all when you had the chance,” Celestine said. “Now. Where are the rest of them?”

“I have my faults, Celly,” Strangward said softly, as if confessing in the temple, “but at least I don’t make war on children.”

That seemed to infuriate the young empress. “A war your brother forced on me! It didn’t have to be that way! It has never been that way.” Raising her hand, she pointed at the mainmast. As Evan watched, wide-eyed, flame jetted from her fingers and engulfed it. A fine white ash settled onto the deck, powdering Evan’s hair and clothing. Bits of flaming wood dropped onto the quarterdeck, leaving scorched spots on the planking.

Captain Strangward stared up at the blazing mast as if stunned. All around them, the crew of Cloud Spirit muttered mingled oaths and prayers.

Celly laughed. “Behold Claire’s other gift to me.”

“Whatever you think I’ve done, I didn’t,” Strangward said, sounding tired more than anything else. “Whatever you think I know, you’re wrong. I told Harol that he was playing with fire, but he wouldn’t listen. He was madly in love with Iona, and she with him. Now. I’ve been at sea for weeks and I’m going home.” He went to turn away from the rail.

“Let me save you a trip,” Celestine said, her voice like a cutlass. “There’s nothing left of Tarvos. I’ve burned out that nest of vermin and driven your crew of wharf rats into the sea.”

Tarvos is gone? Evan’s gut clenched as images swam through his head. There was the small room in Strangward’s compound where Evan stayed while in port. It held nothing more than a rope bed and a trunk with his belongings, but it was his. It looked out onto the courtyard, so he could hear the splashing fountain from his bed. The deep-blue harbor surrounded by sand-colored cliffs. The weekend markets filled with fish and bright rugs and candies made with pi?on. Plenty to eat, every day.

Tarvos had given him a name and a safe harbor when he’d needed one—and now it was gone.





2


STORMCASTER


Strangward stared at Celestine for a long moment, then said, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You should have left well enough alone,” the empress said. “Better men, and more powerful mages, have accepted the cards dealt to them with a lot more grace. You call yourself a stormlord, but your dead brother was the one with the talent.” She straightened, resting her hands on the rail. “Surrender, Strangward, and I’ll let your crew be. They can continue on with Cloud Spirit. I’ll simply send over a new captain.”

With that, someone emerged from the shadow of the wheelhouse and came up to stand next to the empress. Someone with a familiar swagger and stance. And, behind him, the handful of Cloud Spirit crew who’d sailed off with him.

“Tully!” Evan and Brody said in unison, as surprise and dismay rumbled through the deck crew.

Celestine ran her fingers down Tully’s arm. “I told Captain Samara he could have Cloud Spirit if he could arrange this meeting,” she said. “He’s done his part.”

“Lay down your weapons,” Tully called. “There’s no need for bloodshed. Here’s a chance to sign on with the new ruler of the Desert Coast.”

Tully had always been ambitious, but this took ambition to a new level. Evan noticed that he didn’t glow purple like the rest of the empress’s fighters. Like their former shipmates now did.

Brody noticed, too. “So you sold us out for a ship, did you?” he shouted. “Maybe we don’t want to be blood slaves.”

The crew grumbled agreement. Not one of them laid down his weapon. Tully flushed with embarrassment and slid a look at Celestine. So much for showing off in front of your new boss, Evan thought.

Shaking her head as if disappointment was nothing new, the empress gestured to her crew. Grappling hooks arced through the air, trailing lines, and thudded onto the deck.

Despite the numbers, Cloud Spirit’s sailors went at it with a will, manning the rails to drive off the swarms of Celestine’s fighters who were attempting to board. They swung their blades and cut the lines that came snaking between the two ships. Blood spattered the deck as they cut down the pirates who made it as far as the railing. Yet the purple-shrouded crew kept coming, even when seemingly mortally wounded, as if they’d lost their fear of dying.

Nobody was paying attention to Evan, so he pulled a watch cap down over his head, lifted a sword from a dead man, and joined in the fighting.

By the time the ship’s bell sounded the half hour, there were only a handful of Cloud Spirit’s crew left. Strangward still stood exposed on the quarterdeck, chin up, a blade in each hand, cutting down any who came too close. Evan couldn’t help wondering why the empress hadn’t flamed him and put an end to the standoff.

Then it came to him. He’s protecting the ship by standing in the line of fire. He knows that the empress wants to take him alive, that he has information she wants. That’s another reason she hasn’t fired on us. She’s worried she’ll kill him and the information will die with him.

But that protection didn’t extend to everyone, and the empress seemed to be losing patience. Celestine lowered her arm so that she aimed directly at Brody. “I’m weary of this game,” she said. “Now, surrender, or I’ll incinerate what’s left of your crew, one by one, starting with this handsome sailor.”