He couldn’t think of any others.
Janik tore off his shirt, which had threatened to drag him down. Free of its clutches, he fought his way to the surface and filled his lungs with air, spitting out the water that had filled his throat. Away from the lanterns on the ship’s deck, the sea was darker, but the Ring of Siberys stretched its arc high across the sky to paint the night in soft golden light. He saw the ship as a silhouette against the glowing sky, her torches like dancing stars as she slowed and turned her port side to him. He knew they probably wouldn’t come back to him—they couldn’t risk running the ship over him. As soon as they cleared the sahuagin from the deck, he was sure they’d send a launch back to look for him.
That might be too late. A half-dozen yards away, Janik saw the unmistakable shape of a shark’s fin cutting through the water toward him. Bracing himself against the sting of salt water in his eyes, he took a deep breath and plunged his head underwater, quickly looking around him. So far, it looked like only one shark had arrived, and not a very big one at that.
It was upon him. At the last moment, Janik threw his body backward in the water, anticipating that the shark would aim for his wounded shoulder. The shark glided over him. Janik drove his sword upward, but without leverage in the water, he could only manage a glancing blow on the shark’s belly. It was enough to draw blood—and enough to drive the shark into a frenzy.
It circled back toward him quickly, its mouth open wide. Choosing his mark, Janik thrust his sword into the roof of its mouth. It was a good blow—Janik was pretty sure he hit the brain. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop the shark from closing its mouth around his forearm and raking his flesh with rows of teeth. It didn’t have the strength to hold on—or to bite through the bone—and Janik wrested his arm and his sword free. The blood—his and the shark’s—was blackening the water, and it was only a matter of time before more sharks came, probably accompanied by their sea devil masters.
Janik clumsily slid his sword into his belt and started to swim. He doubted he could reach the ship, but perhaps he could meet the launch before the sharks got him.
After several hard strokes, Janik looked behind him and saw the water churning with sharks in the place where he had killed the first one. Feeding on the dead, he supposed. He swam harder toward the hulking shadow of Dayspring, still far away. The salt water stung in the wounds on his shoulder and arm, and he knew he was leaving a trail in the water that the sharks could follow to food. But he could do nothing about that.
A dark shape suddenly stood out from the darkness of the surrounding water—a boat! A long rowboat, one of the ship’s lifeboats, was creeping through the water in his direction, though at its current heading, it would pass him far to his left.
“Over here!” he called out, waving his arms over his head. With his right hand out of the water, he realized for the first time just how much blood he was losing. The boat changed its course slightly and sped up, heading directly toward him. He could see two oars working as fast as the sailors could row.
But not fast enough. One of the sharks disentangled itself from the churning frenzy. Janik could see its dorsal fin barely breaking the water behind him. He pulled out his sword, but his hand was stiff around the hilt and he was having a hard time focusing his eyes. He turned his back to the oncoming boat and drew a shaky breath before lowering himself under the water to meet the onrushing predator.
This shark was considerably larger than the one he’d killed before. He recognized it as a devil shark, named for the enlarged scales on its forehead and the leading edges of its fins, which gave it a sinister, almost fiendish appearance—and, appropriately, the creatures were often found in the company of the sahuagin. Janik fumbled with the sword in his hand, then shifted it to his left. The shark swam past Janik on the right. Janik turned to keep it in sight, and noticed that the rowboat had almost reached him. He felt a surge of hope even as his lungs cried out for air. He kicked himself to the surface, gasping.
“Janik!” Dania’s voice was close, but the shark was closer. It had completed a circle around him and turned inward. He felt it slam into him, but felt no tearing of teeth—either it had already eaten its fill, or it was softening him up. An instant later, a coil of rope splashed into the water beside him. He grabbed it with his right hand, keeping a firm grip on his sword as he tried to wrap the rope firmly around his right arm.
As soon as she was sure he had the rope, Dania pulled it back into the boat, dragging Janik through the water like a fish on a line. Or like a baited hook, Janik thought grimly. As he started to move, the shark recognized the danger of losing its prey, and it lunged at him with its mouth wide open.
Carefully watching the shark’s approach, Janik planted a kick on its snout just as it was about to close its teeth on his legs. It veered sharply away, but immediately started circling back for another pass. Then Janik’s body slammed into the side of the boat. As Dania started hauling him up the side, he blacked out.
A soothing warmth washed over Janik’s left shoulder, his arms, and his legs. In those places, he felt stinging pain, or the memory of it, fading under the advancing warmth. The darkness cleared from his eyes and he realized he was lying flat on his back in the bottom of the rowboat, with Dania bending over him. Silver light glowed around her hands as she rested them on his shoulders. Two sailors, their muscled arms pumping steadily, were already rowing toward Lyrandar Dayspring.
“Thanks,” Janik said as his head cleared. “I was getting a little concerned.”
“That shark almost got you,” Dania said with a slight smile. “But after not speaking to you for three years, I’m not ready to give you to the Devourer.”
“I didn’t think you believed in the Devourer any more.”
Dania scowled. “Oh, don’t be an idiot, Janik,” she said. “I just saved your life. Don’t you think you could refrain from provoking me—at least until we get back to the ship? I can still throw you back in, you know.”
“I’m sorry, Dania,” Janik said. He sat up weakly. “I am grateful, believe me.” Dania’s scowl melted and she smiled at him.
The boat rolled hard, and Janik and Dania were thrown to the port side. The sailor at starboard fumbled with his oar but held his position, while the man at port scrambled desperately to keep from tumbling overboard. Janik could feel something banging against the hull. He reached for his sword but it was not at his belt. Dania was on her feet, longsword in her hand and shield at the ready. The boat righted itself and they were thrown to starboard. Janik found his sword sliding across the bottom of the boat and grabbed it. Dania lost her footing and nearly fell into the water, but Janik caught hold of her with his left hand and pulled her down with him. The sailors kept their seats, but they looked around wildly, panic in their eyes.
“Something’s trying to capsize us,” Janik said. “We’ll do better to keep low in the boat.”
“We’ll do best if we stop the thing before it dumps us overboard,” Dania shot back, scrambling toward the port side, where they could hear the banging.
The boat rolled again and Janik slid to port. Dania leaped to the side of the boat in one big step, and at that instant a huge sea devil appeared over the side of the launch. Two muscular arms reached toward Dania, the webbed hands tipped with sharp claws easily capable of tearing through armor and flesh. Two more arms clutched the side of the boat, lifting the sahuagin up over the gunwale. It swung a foot into the boat and pulled its entire bulk over the side, throwing itself at Dania.