“You wanted to use me. Did you know this would happen? That monster outside…did you know?”
“Of course she didn’t,” Leshie shouted at him. “We all thought that thing was dead. Don’t be stupid.”
Robbert snorted loudly. “You should have told me. You should have told me who you are.”
“I was going to. Just now. Before…”
“You should have said earlier. You should have trusted me to know the truth.” He took a step toward her. Joy growled at his approach. “So you’re not just heir of a duchy, but a kingdom, is that it?”
“She’s heir to a demigod,” Leshie yelled at him. “We’re going to gather the blades, that’s where we’re going. To reforge them. Only Saska can wield that weapon.”
Robbert frowned. “The Blades of Vandar?”
“Yes! The Blades of Vandar! You think that’s easy for her to take, carrying that sort of burden? We’re all here to help her, and you should too. That’s all our duty, king or commoner. We’ll all lay down our lives for her if we must.”
“My men are dying,” Robbert came back. “They’re dying out there right now.”
“And you blame her for that?” Leshie snarled.
“No, I…”
“You lost almost all your fleet already and that had nothing to do with her. That’s the Ever-War. It’s the Last Renewal. It’s Eldur and it’s Agarath and Saska’s going to end it all…”
The ship bucked violently, throwing everyone to one side. Saska lost her feet, stumbling into the chair in which Del sat unconscious, grabbing on to steady herself as Leshie went flying into a wall. At the window the Butcher careened to the side, but the Tigress was there to catch him. Robbert and the Surgeon both fell as well, stumbling and tripping and standing up groggily.
On the decks the screams told their story. Lorin’s Bane had come.
Saska could not stay down here. She headed for the door, reaching for her sword, but Robbert lurched in her way. “No. Stay here.”
“I can fight.”
“Stay here.” He took her by the shoulders. “If all that’s true, we have to protect you. Stay here, Saska. You can’t be risked.” He met her eyes and made sure she agreed before turning and staggering away.
Leshie stumbled up behind her, taking her hand. “He’s right.” She sounded winded from her fall. “Come here. With me and Joy. Come here, Sask. This one isn’t our fight.”
It is my fight. It’s all of our fight. Saska let herself be drawn away all the same. She could hear the chaos above, glimpsed the tentacles moving past the window. A flash of lightning outside showed Blackthorn, sinking down into the depths in a tangle of sails and ropes and shattered wood. A whale was caught up in its rigging, dead. Hundreds of corpses bobbed in the surf like corks.
She squeezed up against the wall, knees tight to her chest, praying for it all to end. Men were dying on deck, screaming as they were crushed and swept away. A figure went flying past the window, shrieking and flailing his arms. She saw a tentacle arm swing out, saw a mast and sails go spinning away into the sea as men clung to the ropes and rigging. From one long arm black blood was raining from a savage cleave and she wondered if that was Rolly’s doing. He would be up there now, greatswords to grasp, hacking and cutting, but against that monster what could he do?
What could any of them do?
The ship heaved and moved again, trembling as the kraken brushed against it with its colossal weight, as though testing this new opponent, even savouring the kill. Joy nuzzled up close, trembling, and Saska wrapped an arm about her shoulders. The ship rocked again, shaken, and Saska squeezed her eyes shut. This is it. The kraken was going to gut them from below, tear through Hammer’s reinforced hull, and they would sink. He’ll take us all down to Daarl’s Domain.
Just like he did my grandfather, Saska thought.
A sudden shout rang out from the window and Saska opened her eyes. The Butcher was stumbling away in fright. Beyond him she saw a great eye appearing, large as an oxcart, an orange eye with veins of red and a black slitted pupil peering in through the glass. Joy arched her back and hissed and the Tigress hissed as well, but Leshie only screamed. There was something knowing in that eye, something yearning. It seemed to widen and dilate as he saw her, found her, and the dagger at her hip was pulsing.
Then suddenly the eye was gone, dipping away as Hammer moved again. And in its place the tentacle rose up…and she saw the giant suckers, red with blood and scraps of flesh, saw them opening and closing like a thousand little mouths, ringed with razor-sharp teeth, saw the great black arm slither up past the window, saw it lower and take aim, saw the tip point right at her…
“Down!” cried the Surgeon, seeing it too.
Saska had time enough to plant herself prone on the ground as the tip of the tentacle struck out, smashing through the glass and shattering the wooden frame. Splinters went flying everywhere. She saw the long arm reach out, the tip striking where she’d been, smashing right through the wall behind her…felt the suckers drop down to rest on her back, feeling, touching, tasting…
“Foul creature!” The Butcher roared and swung down with his sword, cutting deep into the thick black meat, black blood pouring from the wound. The Tigress hissed and leapt forward, hacking and cutting as the tentacle writhed like a snake, striking out fast and fierce. It struck Leshie in the chest, knocking her back, swept the Butcher’s legs from under him. The Tigress was knocked aside, smashed against a wall. The Surgeon shouted a wild cry and attacked, but the arm lashed and swatted him back with a sickening crack as well. None wore their godsteel armour. Without it they were defenceless. Saska surged to her feet and drew out her dagger.
“It’s me you want. Me! You leave them all alone!” she screamed.
The tentacle stopped writhing and went still. Its tip seemed to look at her, studying, cocking a little to one side. Black inky blood gushed from several deep cleaves, but they were nought but scratches to the beast. She held out her dagger, Varin’s dagger. “Is this why you’re here?” She moved it to one side, and the tip of the tentacle followed. “If you want it, take it. Take it!” she roared.
The tentacle coiled, bunching like a snake preparing to strike. She set her feet, ready to throw the dagger and move. The door was close. It was the only way out…
A flash of lightning burst alive outside, so close now, casting the broken wall of the cabin in a blaze of silver.
Thunder bellowed through the world.
The tentacle swung about, as though looking back out. It quivered, concerned, and all of a sudden retreated, sliding back out through the breach.
Saska frowned. Calacan? she thought. She had heard the tale from Talasha, how the eagle god had saved her. The golden lightning, the storm, but this lightning…it was silver. Through the shattered window a strong wind was blowing, and she glimpsed…up there in the skies she glimpsed a shape, a figure, passing down through the clouds.
Another strike cast away the gloom, bright and brilliant, and thunder roared its song. Through the storm and the rain Saska could hear the strains of men cheering out above her. She cast her eyes around the cabin. Her men were groaning, rising, maybe injured in some cases but alive. Joy loped over to lick her hand, but she shook her head. “Stay here. Stay with them.” She turned and ran through the door.
The main deck was chaos. The mizzen mast was gone, the main mast cracked and falling, the sails twisted and torn. Men were stumbling everywhere, moving between the dead and the dying, the decks slick with blood both red and black. The gunwales were smashed, the mounted scorpions broken, only a pair of them still operational to the fore. Out to sea, Saska glimpsed the shadow of Wild Raven being tugged away by the winds, but Blood Bear was nowhere to be seen.
And in the skies, a god.
She stared up at him in wonder. Beyond the kraken’s reach he floated, held in a cushion of curving air. Silver was his armour, blue his cloak, whipping with his hair, coal black like his beard. From his grasp was raised a long silver sword, embraced by a vortex of swirling mist. Above, the lightning gathered. Below, the kraken quailed.
The men were cheering his name. Saska felt the warmth of a tear snaking down her cheek as her eyes met his, lit silver like a star, radiant, brilliant, beautiful. She smiled and thought that he did too, as he jerked the Windblade yet higher, and then swung down with all his might.
