Vengeance of the Pirate Queen(29)

“Open fire!” I yell, and gunshots erupt into the night. More eyes explode, bits raining down into the sea. But a lot of the shots miss, skimming the arms of the beastie or flying wide.

The boat shakes, the creature moving us from beneath the waves. I don’t hear the cracking of wood, so I hope that means we’re all right. I see Radita take off belowdecks to check. Then those whiplike arms lurch forward.

“Swords!” I shout, but it’s too late to be a warning.

Tentacles wrap around the crew, trying to drag them into the sea. One catches Visylla around the neck, and I hack downward with my rapier. Rapiers are usually for stabbing, but I keep the edges of mine nice and sharp. The beastie must not have bones in its limbs, because my sword goes straight through, severing the tentacle. Visylla shrieks as she unwraps the eyeball-tipped limb from her person.

Looking toward the stern, I see sailors being pulled toward the edges of the ship, nails scraping along the deck, trying to find purchase. Kearan drops the helm and lets his cutlass slide free, rushing for the nearest caught sailor. I’m doing the same from this end.

I manage swings with my sword as I run, freeing sailors left and right. I stomp on tentacles, stunning them for a time, allowing other members of the crew to step in. Soon the deck is covered with sticky black blood. Explosions sound from behind me, and I know it means Visylla has begun making use of her bombs.

When I reach the mainmast, Kearan is already there, covered in black streaks of beastie blood, a path of destruction behind him. We’ve met in the middle, each of us panting and filthy. There’s a moment of quiet where we both survey each other. And then, without even communicating, we turn back-to-back, preparing for the next wave.

It is utterly bizarre how attuned to him I feel in this moment, but I don’t question it. A fight is happening, and instinct drives us both.

Someone screams as they’re pulled into the sea, and I don’t see who it is in time. The deck is a mess, pirates running for cover, reloading weapons, tripping over severed limbs.

“Reload the ballista,” I call to Visylla as I slice at a slimy limb that tries to grab me by the neck. I’m faster than it is, and I sever the tentacle right below the eyeball. It bounces twice before rolling across the deck.

Once Visylla has another harpoon ready for me, I resume my position at the ballista. More arms sprout from the water, unblinking eyeballs trained on individual members of the crew. We crank back the mechanism as shots blast through the air and shouts fill my ears. I take aim and fire again.

The creature grunts, but its limbs don’t falter. We’re not doing enough damage.

When an idea comes to me, I have the absurd thought to tell it to Alosa, only to once again remember that I call the shots now.

“Philoria!” I shout.

“Captain?” she says from somewhere within the bedlam.

I finally catch sight of her and race across the deck, slicing at more limbs as I go. She’s stationed against the outside wall to my quarters as she reloads her pistol. I cover her while she takes the time to add powder to her weapon.

“I need the cannons pointed into the sea. Can it be done?” I ask.

“Without shooting through our own ship?” She thinks for a moment. “Well … sort of.”

“Do it.”

“Aye-aye. I need five people to pull it off.”

“Take them. The rest of the crew will cover you.”

She pushes off from the wall, shouting as she approaches the first cannon on the main deck. “Bayla, Visylla, Kearan, Enwen, Taydyn—to me!”

I find Dimella from where she’s slicing through beastie appendages right and left. “We need to give the gunners cover!”

“Aye-aye. To the cannons everyone! Backs to the gunners. Protect them with your lives.”

Philoria disappears belowdecks and returns with ropes slung over her shoulders. She uses them to tie the first cannon to the mainmast with a few feet of slack.

She calls out to her helpers, “Shove the cannon over the water!”

“The railing’s in the way,” Taydyn calls back.

“Then you’d best push really hard! On my count.”

On three, the men shove with all their weight, smashing the cannon right through the railing until it hovers over the water, the ropes attached to the mast keeping it from tipping into the sea. The girls angle the first cannon straight down, before moving to the next one to repeat the process. Philoria tosses separate lines to Bayla and Visylla so they can tie off more cannons to the masts.

Another scream and another crewman disappears over the deck. This time I catch sight of Rorun before he goes into the water, arms flailing.

Dammit.

“Dimella, lower the anchor!” I shout. “We need to buy us some time.”

She widens her eyes, and I can see her desire to question the order, but she hasn’t failed me yet. She nods once, then races for the capstan.

“Brace yourselves!” I shout to the crew.

The ship jolts when the anchor is lowered, the weight slowing us down considerably. Because there’s no one at the helm, we start to spin. But a satisfying wail erupts from below. We hit it. Pierced it likely. Those eyeball limbs disappear back into the water, probably to attempt to dislodge the anchor from wherever it struck the beastie.

“Philoria, quick!” I shout.

Only four of the cannons are ready. Half. We’re going to need them all if this is going to work.