Calder didn’t have a quarter the combat experience Teach did, but he could tell that she was losing. Jorin’s assault was vicious, his power overwhelming, and with each defense Teach lost ground. In the few clear glimpses Calder caught of her through his spyglass, she was breathing like a bellows. Her armor showed several clear cuts, and Jorin’s coat was seemingly unharmed.
The crown wouldn’t even distract Jorin; he was one of the Emperor’s original companions, so the crown had never meant much to him. Calder cast about for something else, anything else, he could do to tilt the battle in Teach’s favor. He could have Foster fire on the Regent, but the two fighters would have to separate first. And if they failed to kill him, if he had some protection against cannonballs or musket-fire, then Jorin’s attention would turn to them. He’d sink The Testament from where he stood.
Finally, Calder’s thoughts returned to something he’d realized only a moment ago. None of them could resist the power of the Awakened blades, and it was foolish to try.
None of them could do it, but he could. He had once before, against the Elderspawn wall outside the Emperor’s quarters.
He tightened his sword-belt and grabbed a pistol. “Andel, take me ashore. I’m about to keep Jorin from killing Teach.”
Shuffles chuckled from the rigging, where he was gnawing on a fishbone. “KILLING.”
Calder pointed up. “He gets it.”
Andel looked at Shuffles. “He’s delighted because he thinks you’ll be murdered.”
“If it makes him feel any better,” Calder said, dropping the longboat, “he’s probably right.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Calder had once imagined sailing as a tedious chore, but in years of traveling the Aion, he’d never felt that way. Either the sky was raining acid, or they were fleeing from some monster large enough to eat the ship, or they were trying to figure out how to avoid stepping in the next deadly trap. Even when days passed by bringing nothing but endless blue, the tension never abated. There was always the understanding that certain death could emerge from the depths at any moment.
Until the last six months. This was boring.
After escaping with Urzaia, they’d loaded him up on The Testament with the intention to follow the coast south for a few weeks. If anyone had somehow caught their trail, they would expect a Navigator ship to head straight into the Aion, not to stay close to the shore where lesser vessels could tread.
It had been a good plan. Calder still thought so. But sometimes even good plans went awry.
There was one thing they hadn’t counted on: that every ship in the Empire would be in the water looking for them.
Calder couldn’t understand it. He hadn’t expected anyone to know who had destroyed the arena and taken Urzaia, but just in case someone remembered who’d given the Champion a ride over from the Capital, he’d decided to act as though he was being pursued. He’d been sure it wouldn’t happen.
But they were only three days out from Axciss when they’d run into the first vessel flying the Imperial flag. The captain of the enemy ship had demanded that they drop anchor and prepare to be boarded, so Calder had taken advantage of The Testament’s superior speed. The Lyathatan had dragged them away and into the deep Aion, where no one but a Navigator could follow.
Except they ran straight into Navigators. A pair of them, one with a ship made entirely out of a giant crab carapace, and another that was bone-white from stem to stern. These, too, had insisted that Calder stop.
This time, Calder had asked for an explanation. They told him only that they were on orders straight from the Emperor, and that any suspicious vessels were to be detained and searched.
“For what?” he’d asked.
“Prepare to be boarded,” he’d been told.
They couldn’t take the chance. They had to assume that the Emperor was searching for his fugitive Champion, so they outran the Navigators and returned to the coastline, where they continued south as fast as the Lyathatan could take them. When the giant Elder threatened to capsize them, they switched to their sails for a while.
And when weeks stretched into months, Calder realized that he was spending every day with nothing more than water in his sights, keeping watch for merely human pursuers. The difference between this and the true Aion Sea was painfully dull, and he finally began to understand the stories of sailors gone mad on long voyages. Before this, he’d assumed they were captured by a sanity-devouring Elder. Now, he knew, silence and solitude had an Elder power all their own.
Even Jerri was crabby and irritable after half a year at sea, and Petal never emerged from her quarters. Andel hadn’t said a word in days, and Foster…Foster tested his weapons twice a day. And each time, he got closer and closer to putting a round into Calder’s head.
He still wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a warning, or if the man was unconsciously fighting a desire to kill him.
Only two inhabitants of The Testament had kept their spirits: Urzaia and Shuffles.
“It is time for lunch!” the Champion declared, ringing a bell for no apparent reason. They could all hear him. “And today we have fresh-caught barberfin, delicately seasoned in the Dylian style with a side of mild beans and a half-ration of Moscarelli wine!”
Fish. That’s what he was saying. They were eating fish again.
Calder glared at the platter in his hands as though he could turn the fish to beef with the sheer force of his Intent. “Do we have anything left in the stores besides fish, Urzaia?”
Urzaia beamed at him. “These did not come from the stores. I caught them myself, just this morning! There are no fresher! Also, I left the heads on them. Delicious delicacy.”
He held one up, putting its empty black eyes and gaping mouth next to his face. “Look at him. Look how surprised he looks!” Urzaia imitated the barberfin’s slack, dead expression and let out a booming laugh.
There was a gun in Foster’s hand, and it looked like he was physically restraining himself from discharging the weapon into Urzaia’s face.
Something fluttered like a flag caught in the breeze, and a familiar weight settled onto Calder’s shoulder. Tendrils brushed his cheek. “LEFT THE HEADS ON,” Shuffles said, in what was practically a whisper. Relative to its normal volume.
Urzaia pointed his fish at the Elderspawn. “You see? The tiny monster has better taste than the rest of you.”
Shuffles launched itself from Calder’s shoulder and fluttered over to land on Urzaia’s. Its tentacles quested toward the fish.
Calder marched to the wheel, swiveling to keep an eye on the entire horizon.
Urzaia noticed. “What’s wrong, Captain? You should eat your fish.”
The tension that ran through Calder was a novelty, and he savored it. If this ended up as another false alarm, he’d…he didn’t know what he’d do. He would probably just eat his fish and cry on the inside. “It’s the middle of the day. If Shuffles woke up before nightfall, that means it expects something interesting to happen.”
Jerri ran on deck, hurriedly smoothing her hair. Her braid was loose and sloppy today, but she tugged it into a semblance of order as she raced up. “Are we in danger?” she asked, in tones of desperate hope. For once, Calder agreed with her. Danger would be a welcome break.