What I find above deck is heartening.
My crew.
They fight off the measly remains of the Drifta aboard the vessel. It doesn’t take long at all, and it ends with the last two of the enemy surrendering. They drop their weapons and raise their hands into the air.
Kearan and Enwen dump them over the side of the ship.
They’ll probably make it, if they can get to a fire soon.
“Captain,” Dimella says by way of greeting when she sees me.
“Get us going,” I order.
“Aye-aye!” She barks out orders to the crew, and they get to it with an enthusiasm I’ve yet to see from the crew of the Wanderer, including Captain Warran, who takes it upon himself to go to the helm.
Kearan steps up to me, eyes me. The belt must be doing a good job, because he doesn’t find anything to point out. “How did it go?”
“Swimmingly.”
“You’re covered in blood.”
I worry he’s noticed the injury, until I realize of course I’m covered in blood. Drifta blood. “Makes me look more fierce.”
“It makes you look a great many things.”
His tone is flirty, and I can’t even fathom what I’m supposed to infer from his words. I say, “Get your arse to the helm. I don’t trust Warran with it.”
“Now you’re thinking about my arse?” he asks.
“I’m thinking about where I could stick my blades if you don’t get moving.”
He gives me my favorite grin, the one that says he knows he’s trouble, before heading up to the aftercastle. I would follow, but I don’t think I can manage more stairs right now. It’s taking everything I have just to act as though everything is fine.
As if I won’t die today.
Iskirra’s a fine healer, but I’m not so foolish as to think that blade didn’t hit something vital as it went clean through my stomach. I can spend the day having her fuss over me or I can captain this crew.
I choose the latter.
The lines keeping us close to shore are cut, the anchor is raised the rest of the way, and a steady breeze takes us away from land. Away from these cursed shores.
We haven’t gone far at all when a clamor steals our attention back on land.
Dozens of people race toward the boat. They clear the tree line, waving their arms in our direction. Screaming at the top of their lungs.
“Help!”
“Wait!”
“Please!”
These aren’t the undead. They’re the remaining Drifta.
There are children and livestock among them. Women and men of all ages.
“What are they saying?” Dimella asks.
“They’re asking for help. They want to go with us.”
“Pfft,” Enwen says. “That’s rich. They try to kill us. Try to kill our captain three times over. Now they think they’re in a position to ask for anything. Show us yer gold!” Enwen shouts the last sentence. “Then we’ll be more likely to open our ears.”
Obviously they can’t understand him, but it doesn’t stop him from yelling at them.
“Stop the boat,” I order.
“What?” a handful of people ask simultaneously.
Dimella does no more than raise a brow.
“They didn’t ask for any of this. It isn’t their fault. Those are civilians. Not warriors out there. Lower the rowboats and bring them ashore.”
“Can we even fit so many?” Captain Warran asks.
“We’ll make room.”
“And how do you intend to feed them?”
“The sea will provide.”
“But—”
“Lads, to the rowboats! Bring the Drifta aboard!” Dimella shouts, cutting off the captain’s further protests. When no one moves right away, Dimella says, “Pull your weight or we’ll make you weightless in the depths of the sea!”
That does the trick.
Kearan is already by the railing, working on lowering the lifeboats. Enwen, Nydus, and Taydyn quickly join him. It’s not long at all before the boats are in the water and sailing for the shore.
I watch as the lads row closer and closer. I brace myself for some sort of trickery, but just as I suspected, there is none. The natives board gratefully, and the lads row them back, handing families onto the ship before rowing out for one more load of people.
Dynkinar is among those aboard. She is with her little translator. I hear her say, “Ask for who’s in charge here.”
“That would be me,” I say, sidling up to the pair.
The speaker looks me up and down. Since I understood her just fine, she doesn’t have to guess my identity. “You didn’t die.”
“No thanks to your people.”
“And yet you still let us board.”
“I would have aided you from the beginning, had you not tried to kill me.”
“You are the only thing stopping him from becoming truly invincible.”
“Or maybe I’m the only way to truly stopping him. Kearan told you of our queen. He wasn’t lying.”
Dynkinar holds herself up as tall as she can manage. She is silent for a moment. “I’ve misjudged your people, Captain Veshtas.”
“You were only looking out for your own, just as I would have done. Let us start fresh.”
Apparently, I’m feeling a lot more forgiving now that I know I’m dying.
Dynkinar nods.
“What happened?” I ask. “Why were you fleeing to the sea?”
“The undead attacked in full force. They were killing everything in sight. We are all that made it out alive. The King of the Undersea must be stopped.”
“We’ll stop him. When we regroup with my queen, we will form a plan of attack immediately.”
Dynkinar bows her head. “It is our only hope now.”
“See to your people, and I will see to mine.”
She nods before helping to locate space for people below and above deck.
And I eye my sailors, who are rowing like mad for the ship, and I see immediately why.
The undead have arrived.
They pour out of the trees by the hundreds, their movements jerky and unnatural. Their eyes glow that peacock blue, even from here, and they move as one force.
One mind behind them all.
“Hurry it up, Kearan!” I scream at him.
“Thought I’d take in the sights first,” he fires back petulantly.
The undead reach the shoreline, but they do not stop. They plunge right into the water, sending it foaming and frothing upward. They march in over their heads, disappearing into the unknown depths.
“Damn,” I say.
Are they swimming? Are they walking the distance? How long will that take? Obviously the boats will reach us first, but will there be enough time to help everyone aboard?
The crew moves as quickly as possible. We haul all the newcomers aboard, and then the lads bring up the rowboats.
“Get us moving, now!”
They don’t need telling twice.
Captain Warran takes the helm again, and he gets us going while Kearan assists the smaller children about the ship. If anyone has noticed that I haven’t moved since coming up top, they don’t say anything.
That bundle of heat within my chest flickers slightly.
“Fighters to the starboard and port of the ship,” I call out. “Keep an eye on that water. If anything tries to climb aboard, slice it!”