Treasure and Treason Page 19

  All three dragons had been shielded against attack, magical and mundane.

  Phaelan and the crew of the Kraken were successfully keeping the Wraith from closing to grappling hook and boarding distance. Kesyn and Talon were working together to spread a ward net to keep the constructs from swinging over from the Wraith into our rigging. Agata had armed herself with crystals glowing even a brighter red than the demons’ eyes. I didn’t know what those crystals could do, but I suspected the constructs weren’t going to like it.

  Until we could take out those mages, the crew of the Kraken was on their own against the Wraith and her goblin phantoms. The Raven and Sea Wolf were fully occupied with the two ships full of the dead and demons.

  If there were any mages left on the two Nebian ships who weren’t directly involved in maintaining and controlling the three ghost ships, they weren’t making themselves known. We’d reached the halfway point between our ships and theirs, and I sensed no attack preparations. Though I’d believe that when nothing or no one tried to blast us from the sky.

  Regardless of what was waiting for us, our ships didn’t have time for us to feel out their defenses.

  We attacked.

  “Hold on to your crystal balls,” Calik shouted before he sent Sapphira into a dive.

  The dragon roared in sheer joy—right before she raked the upper sails with a column of blue fire. Calik timed his grenade drop for when we were directly over the Nebian’s midship.

  Seconds later, a gratifying amount of the ship’s deck exploded upward.

  So much for the ship being shielded.

  Calik whooped and sent Sapphira sharply to the side, avoiding the resulting shrapnel.

  I readied a fireball and hurled it down toward the ship’s stern and the bank of windows that indicated the captain’s quarters. I couldn’t imagine a cabal of Khrynsani mages huddling in a dank hold to conduct their dark work. As glass and timber exploded outward, I glanced back at the Kraken and Wraith.

  The Wraith and the ghost ships were still there.

  Dammit.

  Bane saw what had not happened and readied a fireball in each hand, his dragon’s pilot going into a dive on the second ship.

  The Nebians in the second ship were ready for them.

  Black-hooded mages appeared in a circle around the Nebian ship’s mainmast, the mast forming the nexus of spell maintaining the constructs and controlling the demons.

  Amaranth must have sensed the incoming strike and banked sharply to the left, but the blinding column of red light took the dragon in the right side and her pilot and Bane in the right legs. Screams rent the air as the dragon went into a spin, leveling out at the last moment before crashing into the sea. Amaranth and her pilot’s reflexes were all that had saved them from being roasted alive.

  Through Bane’s best shields.

  It was as if they hadn’t even existed.

  They were hurt, badly.

  And out of the fight.

  Discharging that spell had given me a moment’s glimpse of the top of the Nebian ship’s mast, glowing with the same red light as the Wraith.

  They were using the mast as a signaling device, linking the mages to the construct they’d created.

  Break the mast, break the spell, destroy the ship.

  I fully intended to do all three—especially the last one. The Nebians weren’t the only ones who didn’t want word of what was happening here to get back to the Seven Kingdoms, and to the Conclave and the Guardians in particular.

  I didn’t want the Nebians and the Khrynsani to know that they’d failed.

  And fail they would.

  I saw precisely how I could make it happen.

  “Get close to Dasant,” I said to Calik, nearly having to yell over the wind.

  Calik turned Sapphira to intercept Dasant’s dragon. When Dasant had us in his direct line of sight, I communicated my plan in the hand signals we knew all too well. Even at that distance, I saw Dasant’s eyes widen as I gestured.

  That made two of us. I couldn’t believe what I was about to do, either.

  I knew Bane would give us what support he could, but I wasn’t going to count on it.

  Dragons attacked from the air, usually from above.

  The mast was protected and so were the mages and the ship, from the top of the mast to the waterline.

  We were at sea, with wind and waves.

  As the ship moved, so did the waterline.

  The mages’ shield didn’t. It couldn’t. Manifesting and controlling the constructs that were the Wraith and its dead crew took all of their power and concentration.

  As a result, the shield was like a glass dome over the ship, rigid, inflexible.

  Sentry dragons were very flexible.

  We would strike in that instant when the ship rolled with the waves, exposing a sliver of the ship’s hull.

  Dasant would execute his attack run from port near the bow. I would strike from starboard near the stern. We would bank sharply toward open water, staying below the ship’s guns to get clear.

  I quickly told Calik the plan.

  I had never seen such an evil grin. He liked it. He liked it a lot.

  “So, how low can she go?” I asked.

  “Your legs strapped in?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Those fancy boots of yours might get wet.”

  Calik and the other pilot sent the dragons into a broad swoop, then a dive from farther out than would be needed for a conventional attack run, but vital for gathering speed.

  Sapphira leveled out mere inches above the waves, her wings tightly tucked, her body like a fire-breathing arrow aimed directly at the Nebians’ waterline. We had to be far enough away to maintain speed, close enough to be targets for the Nebians’ guns. Only I could see the gap between water and the shield where the hull was exposed. Sapphira would fire on my signal. Then Calik would rein her sharply up and to the stern, toward open water. Mithryn’s pilot would bank her toward the bow. The goal was to avoid the mages’ shield and the destruction caused by each other.

  At least that was the plan.

  It sounded great in theory, brazen, suicidal even.

  Brazen if we lived. Suicidal—and stupid—if we didn’t.

  I summoned fireballs to supplement Sapphira’s flame. She was aiming at the waterline. I would target just below the surface. Water extinguished fire, even a dragon’s. Mine wasn’t normal fire; it was formed and propelled by magic. Dasant and I could go under the mages’ shield and right through the hull of the Nebian vessel. The pilots would make any minute adjustments to our mounts to keep us on target and out of the water. However, Calik couldn’t do anything about the spray sent up by the force of Sapphira’s bulk and speed flying over the water.

  One bobble, one wingtip in the water, could send us into a deadly, neck-breaking tumble, where we’d be easy prey for the Nebians’ guns.

  Calik was nearly horizontal in the saddle, lying flat against Sapphira’s neck. I did the same as much as possible, but instead of Sapphira’s neck, my cheek rested against the saddle bow, giving me an angled view around Calik without affecting our wind resistance.

  I knew I might die in the next few seconds, but I’d never felt more alive.

  I held my hands down and out of sight, relying on my harness to stay in the saddle, keeping the fireballs out of the sight of the shouting and screaming Nebians on the deck until the last instant. I felt Sapphira’s sides expand against my legs, inhaling in preparation to breathe fire. I raised my arms slightly, my fists holding the concentrated red fire ready to launch.

  If I miscalculated, Sapphira’s fire would hit the shield and the backblast would consume us all.

  My field of vision narrowed, focusing on the section of the hull most likely to clear the water for the best exposure, but before Sapphira had to peel away or crash into the side of the ship.

  “Fahrat!” I screamed. Fire.

  Sapphira fired, I launched, Calik veered us all away.

&nbs
p; Explosions punched holes in the waterline of the Nebian ship.

  The plan had been for Sapphira to half extend her wings to get enough leverage and wind to stay below the ship’s railing. A similar maneuver had been part of her training.

  Sapphira had other ideas.

  I didn’t know if it was that she’d seen her sister struck by the mages’ spell, or whether it was the heat of battle, pure stubbornness, or all of the above.

  Sapphira fought the bridle, ignored Calik’s commands, and went for the mast that was no longer protected by a shield. Having a ship blown out from beneath you would break the most focused mage’s concentration.

  The power channeled through that mast had hurt her sister. Sapphira was determined to hurt that mast.

  As she soared up its length, Sapphira snapped her massive tail like a whip, breaking the mainmast in half as the ship exploded.

  “Must have hit the powder room,” Calik shouted as Sapphira allowed herself to be brought back under control.

  Just before the ship exploded, I got a good look at the faces of the alien mages. Taller than the human Nebian sailors by at least a foot, they had dark green faces, scaled dark green faces.

  One face wasn’t green or scaled. It was pale gray and beautiful. A goblin. I recognized the cloak and hood.

  Bricarda.

  Her hood fell back as she smiled up at me and waved, then she vanished just as she had in the street two blocks from my home—a spilt second before the Nebian ship exploded.

  *

  “When the second ship blew, the Wraith and the two demon ships disappeared,” Phaelan was saying. “Even a cannonball that was headed straight for our mainmast vanished into thin air.”

  Talon was having his arm wrapped by the ship’s doctor. It was a relatively minor injury, so he had waited until others with worse injuries had been treated. One of those had been Agata. Talon had insisted that she go before him. She refused because Talon’s injury was worse. He re-insisted. Agata refused his re-insistence. Then they argued until Kesyn stepped in, took charge, and got them both patched up.

  “He did a fine job,” Phaelan was saying. “You would have been proud.” He paused and thought. “Or maybe pissed. Proud and pissed.”

  I smiled. “I often experience that with him. What did he do?”

  “Put himself and his blades in front of four of my wounded crew. Most of the goblins have some fighting magic to go with their blade work. My elves don’t. Maybe I need to think about recruiting some battle mages.”

  “Present and possible future situations considered, I think that would be a good idea. Markus Sevelien is Imala’s equivalent in elven intelligence. I’m sure he’d be able to make some recommendations and introductions.”

  Phaelan glanced back at Talon. “He’s a brave young man. Refused to back down. I didn’t want to leave him on his own, but I didn’t have a choice. We were overrun.”

  “Casualties?”

  Phaelan scowled. “Ten. Which is ten too many considering we were fighting magic replicas of dead men.”

  “You said ten,” I said quietly, seeing the bodies covered by tarps. Six had pale skin. The other four had gray. “Not six elves and four goblins.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” he said, looking out over the main deck at the crew clearing the debris and making repairs. “They’re not elves or goblins now; they’re my crew, and they will be for as long as this voyage lasts.”

  From his tone, Phaelan Benares sounded as if he wouldn’t mind making the arrangement permanent.

  “Your teacher deflected a yardarm blasted over from the Wraith that would’ve killed at least half a dozen more,” Phaelan continued. “Magic killed ten of my crew, but it saved far more.”

  “So you’re saying magic isn’t the bane of your existence any longer?”

  “Let’s just say that I’m reserving judgment.”

  Chapter 34

  Once the two Nebian ships were destroyed, communication was restored, and I contacted Regor and the Isle of Mid with a report of what had happened.

  Not surprisingly, the Nebians had not lodged a complaint or filed charges against us with the Conclave. Either they knew of their ships’ destruction and chose to remain silent, since they had been the aggressor, or we had taken out the ships before they could send a distress signal.

  Hopefully, this meant the only danger would come from ahead of us in Aquas, but we would keep an eye out for pursuers—by sea, air, or from beneath the water.

  The last option was what was keeping all of us on edge.

  We were slightly past the halfway point of the voyage. If the weather held, another two weeks would put us on the shores of Aquas.

  I debated attempting to unlock Rudra Muralin’s book again, but instead I chose what I hoped would be a more enjoyable and satisfying option—a nap. After what I’d done, my body could use the rest, but that wouldn’t be the enjoyable or satisfying part.

  That part would come when Sarad Nukpana put in another appearance in my dreams and I could get my hands around his neck.

  *

  I’ve always been a patient man, but there was nothing like the sensation of immediate gratification.

  My dream’s location was the same as last time. Once again, Sarad Nukpana was waiting for me.

  And I was ready for him.

  This was my dream and I took charge of it.

  The next instant had me slamming Sarad onto the rocky ground with my hands around his throat.

  No demons battling in our stead, no magic, just us.

  Now this was more like it.

  If I needed any more proof that somehow, some form of Sarad Nukpana was wreaking havoc in the dreamscape, I had it now. Sarad Nukpana had a black eye, courtesy of Agata Azul and her rocks.

  Though right now Sarad wasn’t choking.

  He was laughing.

  I wanted to tighten my grip, snap his neck, and permanently wipe that smirk off his face, but curiosity as to why he was laughing won out.

  I could always resume choking him later.

  “I had nothing to do with that attack,” he managed. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t admire the artistry.”

  My fists twitched with the need to add substantially to the Agata-inflicted black eye. “Artistry?” I snarled. “Men and women died.”

  “As we will all do eventually. They gave their lives in defense of their ship and comrades in arms. Isn’t that the very definition of a good death? You can’t tell me you actually want to die in your sleep of old age.”

  I shoved him away from me and bared my teeth in a ferocious smile. “No, but I’d love for you to die in my sleep.”

  Sarad pulled himself up against a rock and leaned back. “I’ve discovered through experience that it’s impossible to die in a dream—or to kill another. Otherwise, I assure you, my dear Tamnais, I would have made the attempt. I lost nothing in letting you have a go at me. Do you feel better now? Or do you still have additional barbarism to get out of your system?”

  “If you didn’t personally oversee those mages, that doesn’t mean you didn’t know about it—or your lady friend, Bricarda.”

  “I would hardly describe Bricarda as a friend, more like a shapely jailer.” He smiled, slow and lascivious. “With certain benefits. I can honestly say that Hell hasn’t been all that hellish.”

  “If I had known that, I would have arranged to have had you taken somewhere else.”

  “And miss out on getting a chance to choke me? Not to mention the satisfaction of again having an adversary worthy of your intellect and skill. I have made your life infinitely more exciting. Admit it, you’ve been bored since I’ve been gone. I can’t imagine how tedious your workday in the palace must be. Attempting to discover who the traitors are, and when you find them, agonizing over their fates.”

  “Actually, not only have I not agonized over their fates, I haven’t even lost sleep over it. They signed their death warrants when they allied themselves with you.”

  “Death warr
ants?” Sarad gasped in mock horror. “You don’t mean to tell me that you and Imala have been executing people?”

  “Imprisonment merely gives them the opportunity to escape. The risk is too great. There is no redemption for these people. Once we’re convinced of their guilt, yes, there have been executions. Unfortunately, there will be many more.”

  “Why Tamnais, I have misjudged you. Perhaps there is hope for you yet.”

  “Yes, there is hope for me. Unlike you, I derive no pleasure from my actions. They are merely unavoidable. It’s the price that must be paid to ensure peace and the survival of the goblin people.”

  “It will be interesting to see how long your peace lasts. You will find that your beloved goblin people bore easily. There is no challenge in peace, no us versus them, no hunting your enemies in the dark of night. Quite frankly, you’ve taken away our collective reason to live.”

  “If you don’t wish to go on living, I would be the last person to attempt or even want to stop you.”

  “I’m sorry, but that decision is not in your hands.” He flashed a smile. “At least not here and not now.”

  “I can wait. I’m certain that you’ll con or bribe your way out of Hell eventually.” I gave him a smile of my own. “And when that happens, I’ll be waiting for you.” I leaned back against what appeared to be a petrified tree and crossed my arms over my chest.

  My ring glinted in the light, just as I hoped it would.

  In my first dream, when Sarad put in an appearance, I’d quickly turned the stone and its dragon setting around and kept my fingers wrapped around it. This time, I make sure the ring was clearly visible.

  Sarad’s dark eyes glittered in raw avarice when he saw it. “A piece of the Heart of Nidaar. Agata refused to let me examine hers.”

  I gestured toward his black eye. “So I heard. When a lady says ‘no’ that is precisely what she means. Get used to disappointment.”

  “So where were they? I tore your house apart searching for them.”