Fifty-Three Fates Worse Than Death

FIFTY-THREE

Fates Worse Than Death

MARY

T he remaining two Stormsingers were gathered in Solace's grand cabin, one of the few compartments whose walls had not been taken down for action. Now that it was not packed with figures, I could see that the room was lavish, with cases of books and drapes of velvet, rugs on the floor and ornate lanterns fixed to the beams, though none were now lit.

The door to the stern balcony stood open between the gallery windows, filling the cabin with damp, smoke-thick air. We clustered before it, watched by half a dozen, hopefully trustworthy, marines, led by a midshipman barely older than sixteen. Evidentially we were expected to continue our tasks, despite the threat of assassination, sabotaged ships, limited line of sight and no new instructions.

The midshipman, for his part, turned away to drink from a flask and avoided the prompting looks of everyone in the room. His hands shook, and there was blood on his face. I might have felt pity for him, had all our lives not been in jeopardy.

"What are we to do?" I finally demanded, interrupting the boy's poor attempt at discreetly intoxicating himself.

"We will remain here until the threat has passed," he rattled out, dropping the flask to his side. His cheeks flushed in shame as he heard the quaver in his own voice. "Carry on."

"With what? We can hardly see," Elsher snapped.

"They're trying to kill us!" the young Stormsinger said. Her terror was a baffled thing, all wide eyes and shaking hands. She had a bandaged arm and numerous cuts, including one on her face that sluiced crimson down her throat and soaked her shirt.

Elsher and the midshipman descended into a short, heated confrontation, he delivering vague instruction and she countering. It was growing rapidly clear that the boy had little concept of the situation or what to do about it.

From the expressions on their faces, the marines agreed with me.

Tane's and my thoughts ran seamlessly together. The Black Tide had Ess Noti provisions, worshipped a ghisting known to the Ess Noti, and had no reason to attack their own people other than under Mereish pressure. Just how that pressure had come and how willing the Black Tide were was unclear and, to some extent, didn't matter. They, it seemed, would kill us if given the chance.

The young Stormsinger met my eyes, and through the melee of my emotions—elation, horror, confusion, determination—I suddenly, fiercely, wished I had jumped overboard and swam for Hart when I had the chance. But at the same time, I was relieved I had not.

I raised my voice over the conflict. "I have a plan. And, I believe, some insight into the situation."

"Then speak." Elsher turned on me, giving up on the midshipman.

"The Black Tide Cult is killing Aeadine mages and, I suspect, sabotaging our ships," I said, including everyone in the room. "The weapons they are using are tied to Mereish spies. They can resist sorcery, if they have the right talismans, and their musket balls can stifle our power if we are shot."

"How?" the midshipman asked, sounding lost. His flask hung from his fingers now.

Anger flared through me, though I was not wholly surprised. "Your superiors should have told you this. You should have been warned."

The midshipman's face burned an even darker shade of crimson. He took a swig from his flask and wiped his mouth. "Why would the Black Tide betray us? They are… they are Aeadine."

"But they worship Mereish sorceries," Elsher stated.

I nodded. "They've a bastard kinship. Whatever their reasoning, this is the situation we are in. Now." I glanced at the open balcony door and caught Elsher's eye. "We need to regain control of the cyclones."

The pair of us moved out onto the balcony, followed a breath later by the girl. We crowded against the rail as the winds came to us, laden with the stink of gunsmoke and fire and blood and burning tar and hemp. The thunder of cannons was constant, and flotsam thudded against the hull. I watched a body eddy past, face-down, and forced my gaze upwards.

Our view of the battle was stunted, choked with fog and comprised almost solely of the middle and rear lines of Aeadine ships—or what had been, and was now a scattering of a dozen burning hulks and desperately maneuvering vessels. I could not see my cyclones, and I felt only two remaining, far to the west.

"We are useless from here," Elsher stated, craning around the stern of the ship. "We are as like to destroy our own vessels as theirs."

"Then we hide!" the girl said. "That's what they want, isn't it? Maybe they'll leave us alone."

I glanced at her with growing irritation, but, before I could speak again, I heard the door to the cabin open and a male voice.

"Oh, thank the Saint," Elsher muttered, and she and the girl hastened back into the cabin.

I froze, framed in the doorway.

"There is a Mereish vessel making to board us. Marines, above, now." Lieutenant Adler was efficient and brusque, at ease in his command. His sword was sheathed, no pistols in sight. He did not look like a man who had come to assassinate three trapped mages, but…

Damn it all. How could I have forgotten Adler was here? Even in the chaos, I should have remembered, should have—

The soldiers started to leave. The midshipman fiddled with his hat in the doorway, asking some hushed and nervous question, clearly reluctant to leave the safety of the cabin.

"He's Black Tide!" I shouted. The midshipman looked back at me, perplexed, but Adler shoved him into the hall, shut the door and flipped the latch.

Elsher shot me a startled look.

The corners of Adler's mouth pulled up in what I supposed was a bracing smile. Somehow the contrast between his reluctant expression and the hand he laid on the hilt of his sword was all the more terrifying.

His hand was smeared with blood.

Behind him, someone started pounding on the door.

"I am to kill only those who threaten the Mereish Fleet," he said, his voice low and calm. His eyes fixed on me, and, with his free hand, he fished a glass bottle from his coat. "So decide, witches. Are you a threat? Drink this, and your power will be suppressed for the remainder of the battle. Solace will not be able to use you, and you may live. Otherwise…" He drew his cutlass and tilted it, letting light flow down the blade.

The girl flinched forward, eyes fixed on the bottle, but Elsher shoved her forcefully back.

"We are the queen's." The older woman glared. As she did, the air in the cabin shifted, stirring our hair and clothing. "We live and die at her pleasure."

"Speak for yourself," I muttered. I threw out an open palm, hummed one low note, and closed my fingers.

The Quelling affected Adler instantly. He staggered, trying to gasp. He won a thread of breath, only for me to stifle it again, holding his breath captive.

His stare became a lance, spearing through me as he found his feet, cutlass still clutched, and stalked across the cabin. As he passed the table, he set the bottle out with stiff, pointed movements, then, in a sudden change, unfolded like a whip towards me.

I darted to the side. He missed my arm by a hair, and, as his face swelled red and his eyes bulged with near-manic determination, he seized Elsher instead and ran her through.

"Run!" I shouted to the girl. I seized a chair and threw it at Adler but missed, hitting the bulkhead with a resounding crack.

My control faltered. I heard the lieutenant rake a shallow breath and he grabbed for the girl.

"I'll drink it!" she shrieked, snatching desperately for the bottle. "I'll drink it!"

He pinned her to the windows. Somewhere in the struggle, the bottle slipped from the girl's hands and shattered on the floor. Light cut around the young mage, igniting stray, glossy dark hair in a halo. Her already bloody face became a mask of shock, her hands limp at her sides.

Adler's muscles twitched to strike, delivering me one last, warning look.

I let my power fall. He gasped like a drowning man, still holding the girl in place. Never once did his eyes leave me.

Elsher was dying not far away, leaking blood and more pungent fluids onto the deck as she sobbed in disbelief.

"What did you do to me?" Adler growled.

An impact shook the deck. Shouts arose and feet pounded—not just above our heads, but in the passage outside the cabin. Fists pounded on the door with renewed urgency, and voices clamored. Wood began to splinter.

Any second, they would break through. Elsher and the girl— they could still be saved.

Then why did Adler look so calm?

He seemed to read my thoughts. "We were about to be boarded, that was no lie." I saw a flicker of something new in his eyes, not threat, but avarice. "I also meant what I said—I will kill only those who are a threat. Come with me alive, or I will kill you like the rest. You have no loyalty to Solace, Ms. Firth, I know that."

Perhaps it should shame me to admit it, but I was sorely tempted to give in, to buy even a few more minutes of life.

Still, I had one more card to play.

Against the window, the girl shuddered. Fearing her legs might give out, I spoke faster.

"You realize what they think of you, don't you?" I asked. "The Ess Noti?"

He was unsurprised by the name. "They are our brethren."

"They despise you," I threw back. More pieces were clicking into place now, nudged in the right direction by Adler's actions and expressions. "Ignorant savages dancing in the moonlight. They are using you."

Adler, to my dismay, laughed. The sound was jarring and genuine and made my blood run cold.

"Of course they use us," he tossed back. "As we use them. That is the way of humanity, Ms. Firth. Of all nature."

The door buckled. Figures poured through the doorway, led by a Mereish officer with a pistol raised.

Adler momentarily looked down the barrel of that pistol before the deafening report filled the cabin.

I grabbed the girl, the last of my sisters, and dragged her out onto the balcony. She let me, her body loose and her eyes blank with shock.

I slammed the balcony door. Just before it closed, I summoned every scrap of air in the room and pulled it in a blood-scented, smoky gust.

Beyond the glass, the Mereish staggered. The room wasn't sealed well enough for the Quelling to last, but I'd bought us precious seconds.

"We have to swim!" I grabbed the sides of the girl's head. My heart hammered, all too aware of the Mereish still pouring into the cabin. Their officer was mere paces away, wheezing but intent.

"I can't swim," the girl whispered, her voice thready and toneless. Her eyes were listless, struggling to meet mine.

I have to leave her , I said to Tane. I have to, but I can't.

Then push her.

I shoved the girl into the railing.

"No!" She panicked, suddenly coming to life. "We'll drown! We'll die!"

"There are fates worse than death!"

"No!" She tore away and lunged for the balcony door just as it opened and Mereish poured through.

I leapt for the rail. My hip went over—I felt the pain of it, the jar of wood on flesh, then the shift of balance as I fell off the balcony, down into the miasma of smoke and fog and the churn of the swollen sea.