Meia had begun to turn as soon as the ocean surface bulged, but Calder’s mind was already in the ship. It was easier than flipping a finger to wrap her in the ship’s lines, binding her while the Lyathatan made its entrance.
The ropes lasted exactly no time at all, as two bronze blades flashed. For a heartbeat he couldn’t believe it, even as he watched shredded pieces of rope float down. Her knives had been sheathed, and she’d been facing the other direction. She couldn’t have sensed the ropes coming. It wasn’t possible, even for a Reader.
He started to tip The Testament even as the Lyathatan reached out, but it was too late; Meia had already reached him. One bronze knife sliced his belt, which slid to the deck, carrying with it the sword he’d tried to draw. It was an Awakened blade, granted to him as part of a deal with a Great Elder, but it did him precisely as much good as a bent wooden stick. Her other knife was back in its sheath, but just as he noticed, he realized that her empty hand was coming up to his throat anyway.
Not empty. The sunlight glinted off a needle pinched between her fingers.
Calder winced at the pain in his neck as she struck like a scorpion. He’d been poisoned by one of these needles before, so he knew exactly what to expect.
Only two seconds later, he collapsed. Every one of his injuries burst to life again. The agony swallowed him, but at least he had one thing to look forward to: soon, he would pass out.
From his angle lying on his side, he could just see the Lyathatan’s chest and elbow, but he still felt its Intent. It had stopped as soon as he was incapacitated, and Calder wasn’t sure whether that came from concern for his well-being or a cruel sense of humor.
A strange Intent crawled up the chains. In addition to the Elder’s usual distant calculations and slow rage, it was now feeling something new. Something almost like…amusement.
The Lyathatan opened its mouth, though Calder could only see its lower jaw, and let out a hissing laugh.
Even the Elders were laughing at him.
Foster knelt by Calder’s side and rapped him on the forehead. “Well, that was the most stupid thing I’ve ever seen you do. And that’s a prestigious record, I don’t say it lightly. She fought Urzaia, you’re not going to catch her off guard.”
You could have reminded me sixty seconds ago, Calder thought, but nothing made it out of his paralyzed mouth.
Andel emerged from below deck, climbing out with a bottle of wine in one hand and a basket in the other. “The bread is relatively fresh, and we have some seasoned fish and olives to go with it. I’m not quite sure about the wine, with Petal…ah, I see the Captain is here.”
Meia sighed. “He tried to set his Elderspawn on me. Evidently he mistook my mercy for idiocy.”
“The Captain’s inadequacies aside, we’re about to have a problem.” Andel turned to the Lyathatan, which spat out laughter even as it slowly descended into the ocean, its six black eyes trained on Calder. If the Elderspawn weren’t completely capable of destroying this ship and everyone on it, Calder would have sought revenge for this humiliation.
Come to think of it, why did he have to witness this scene at all? Why was he still conscious?
“The Eternal will have seen that,” Andel continued. “They’re only minutes out. We intended to follow them to the Capital, but now that they’ve seen something’s wrong, I’m sure they will send someone over.”
Meia’s soft footsteps padded past Calder’s ears as she stepped over his head. “So the Elderspawn was a signal. Nice try, but if Shera were in my position, she would have killed the captain immediately. He’s lucky to be alive.”
Calder hadn’t thought of using the Lyathatan as a signal, but he appreciated the results. When he discussed this with Andel in the future, he would pretend this was his plan all along.
The Consultant leaned over, pulling Calder’s spyglass from inside his jacket. She turned to the railing, and metal scraped as the spyglass slid open. She must be inspecting Cheska Bennett’s ship. “Who’s onboard?” Meia asked.
“Three Guild Heads,” Andel answered grimly, and the assassin let out an involuntary growl. An actual growl, as though Calder was lying at the feet of a massive hunting dog.
She didn’t give any sign that she’d done anything out of the ordinary, but Calder wished he could exchange glances with Andel and Foster. “How long before they get over here?”
“Not long,” Bliss said.
Calder’s hopes soared.
The Head of the Blackwatch Guild slid into his view—actually slid, skating over the portion of the deck that had been splashed in the wake of the Lyathatan’s rise. He hadn’t seen her arrive on the ship, but that was no surprise. He doubted he would have seen anything even if he could still turn his head.
Bliss looked exactly the same as always: her long hair a shade closer to white than her skin, wearing a black coat that hung down to her ankles. The row of silver buttons down the middle each bore the crest of the Blackwatch: six inhuman eyes on a bed of tentacles.
She fixed her gaze on a point over and behind Calder. “Oh? Calder Marten said you were tied up.”
“I was, at the time,” Meia responded. Calder’s spyglass fell as she dropped it, hitting him on the chest. It struck him right in the bandaged shoulder, and a weak groan escaped from his chest.
Why wasn’t he unconscious yet? His vision wasn’t even fading; nothing new seemed to be happening to him, but he was still locked in paralysis with his burning injuries.
Bliss slid sideways on the slick deck without taking her eyes from the Consultant. “You look strange. Do you know Nathanael Bareius?”
“I’ve never met him, but I’m familiar with his handiwork.” Meia’s hand flexed, stretching further. Muscles rippled up her arm, and her nails extended into claws.
“Hmm. We need Calder Marten, we’ve all agreed, but I don’t know what I should do with you. You’re not supposed to be here, you know. I—”
Bliss was cut off when Meia launched herself explosively across the deck. Calder could actually feel his Vessel tense beneath him at the force of her leap, and she descended on the Guild Head an instant later with bronze in one hand and claws bared in the other.
Calder had to strain his eyes to catch what happened next, and it still took several long seconds for his brain to piece it together. Meia’s dagger plunged down before her feet had even met the deck, and Bliss’ hand moved. The knuckles of her fist struck the flat of the blade, then the hand unfolded and pushed against Meia’s wrist. The Guild Head’s other arm came down straight onto Meia’s, pushing the clawed hand down and away.
As a result, the assassin landed with both arms pushed wide apart, as though she meant to wrap the shorter woman in an embrace. While Calder was still puzzling over their first exchange, Meia pushed her arms together, trying to overpower Bliss with sheer strength.
But Bliss released her immediately, skating backwards on the wet deck. Meia stopped before she drove a knife into her own palm.
“I see now,” Bliss said, calm as ever. “They’ve given you some supplementary systems. That’s very sad for you. How do you deal with the voices?”
Meia had stopped where Calder could see her face, and her Kameira eyes blazed with orange light. “You’re an artificial. I’d heard the rumors, but I never checked your file.” The Consultant’s face reddened and her shoulders trembled with palpable rage, but her expression remained focused and her knife steady. The combination made her seem much less human, giving the impression that her body was shaking without her. Like her flesh bore an anger that her mind could not touch.