Mik hefted his boathook like a spear and took careful aim. As the brass galley settled alongside, he heaved the weapon toward Lord Kell. Kell didn’t see the makeshift spear coming; it flew straight toward his unarmored neck.
In the next moment, though, a huge wave rocked the two ships. The boathook sailed past Kell’s left ear and stuck in the triarch’s seat behind him.
The lord of the Order of Brass whirled toward Mik, murder flashing in his eyes. His deep voice thundered over the raging storm. “Take them!” he called to his warriors. “But leave Vardan for me!”
In response, three dozen brass-armored seamen swarmed across the ropes binding the two ships together.
Jerick’s crew responded quickly, drawing their weapons and snatching up belaying pins, boathooks, and anything else that might serve to fend off the invaders.
But just as the two forces were about to meet, Jerick called, “Hold! Lay down your weapons!”
“What?” Mik and Trip asked simultaneously.
“Lay down your weapons!” Jerick repeated. “We surrender.”
Cold, swirling winds buffeted Ula as she fell. The wicked rain lashed against her body. Above her, Tanalish writhed in agony, the she-dragon’s brass-armored head charred and blistered.
The joined key at Ula’s waist blazed brightly. An image of a huge diamond formed in her mind-but she pushed it aside. Red Wake looked so tiny below. And was that another boat alongside it?
“What a stupid way to die,” she thought. “Dozens of enemies howling for my blood, and I’m going to be killed in a fall.”
Though she knew hitting the water would undoubtedly kill her, she twisted her body and arced into a diving position. She ignored the aches of her flesh, the screaming of the wind, and the lashing of the rain, and focused on the surface of the sea far below.
“Key to a fortune at my waist, and I’ll never get to see it,” she thought.
A dark-winged shadow flitted overhead.
Suddenly, she stopped falling.
Shimmer screamed in agony as he swept Ula into his arms. The wind turned the spray of blood from his mangled shoulder into a clinging red mist. As he gazed at the sea elf, his face and form became slightly more human.
Ula smiled at him. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” she said.
“I’m not sure… I can save us,” he gasped.
“At least you tried.”
Something hard smashed into them, and the world went black.
“How can we surrender?” Mik asked angrily.
“Use your head, lad,” Jerick replied. “We’re outnumbered and out-armed. A storm is no place to be fighting. We’ll need all our strength and wits just to pull through this.”
“What makes you think they’ll let us live?” Mik asked.
One of the brass warriors near him charged. The sailor spun and clouted him on the back of the head with the pommel of his scimitar. The man crashed to the deck with a soggy thud.
“Call off your dogs, Kell,” Mik barked. “I won’t be so kind to the next one.”
“Hold!” Lord Kell cried. “Hold!”
“Any of my crew who fights,” Jerick bellowed, “will be answerin’ to me!”
The crews of the two ships cautiously backed away from each other, leaving Kell, Jerick, Mik, and Trip standing alone in the middle of Red Wake’s quarterdeck.
Mik and Trip glanced at each other, neither willing to put down his weapons just yet.
Jerick threw his arms wide. “What is this, Lord Kell?” he said. “We’ve no need to fight I’ve no quarrel with either you or the Order of Brass. If you’d asked us to heave to, we would have. Gladly.”
“I doubt some of your passengers would comply so willingly,” Kell said.
“I gave your man no more than he deserved,” Mik replied. “Have you taken up piracy now, Lord Kell, or are you still out to avenge some imagined slight to your honor?”
“Look out!” Trip cried, pushing Mik aside. As the-sailor and the kender fell, a huge shape crashed onto the deck beside them.
The crew gasped as part of the battered and bloody form moved. It was a half-dragon, half-human creature, slightly larger than a minotaur, and covered with bronze armor.
“Shimmer!” Mik said.
Shimanloreth rose slowly to his knees as Mik and Trip knelt by the prostrate form of Ula, lying on the deck beside him. The sea elf was covered with blood, though how much of it was her own Mik could not tell. The bejeweled key at her waist glowed faintly.
“Take them!” Lord Kell barked, pointing at the group. “Alive, if you can, but take them!”
“Stop!” Jerick said. “We have no quarrel!”
“Stay out of this,” Kell replied. “Do as I say! Now!”
Kell’s brass warriors surged forward. As they did, Shimmer opened his half-human mouth. A huge cloud of greenish black gas belched forth. Shapes writhed within the roiling cloud-hideous shapes culled from the nightmares of each warrior.
The seamen stopped and retreated. Some dropped their weapons and fled back to their own ship. Others cowered in the corners of Red Wake’s deck-keeping as far away from the bronze dragon as possible.
“Must I do everything myself?” Kell asked, striding forward. He lowered the tip of his coral lance.
Mik rose to meet him, standing between the lord and his wounded comrades.
“Ula! Are you all right?” Trip whispered frantically. “Wake up! We’re in a real jam here!
“She’s alive,” Mik said to Trip, though his gaze remained fixed on the brass lord. “Though not for much longer if Kell here has his way.”
Just then, Karista Meinor clambered aboard the Red Wake. “The key, milord,” she said. “Vardan, the kender, and the elf aren’t important. We came for the key. Remember?”
A thundering scream rent the air. All eyes turned skyward as Tanalish, burnt and bloody, swooped down toward the ship. Her body melted and changed, adopting both human and dragon characteristics until she resembled a hideous, bat-winged harpy.
“Let me destroy them, Benthor Kell!” she bellowed as she approached. “The sea elf and her hound are no match for me!” The dragon dove through the rigging toward Shimmer and Ula.
Mik stooped down and ripped the bejeweled key from Ula’s waist. Before anyone could react, he rose and sprinted to the rail.
“Stop her!” he commanded Lord Kell, dangling the artifact over the crashing waves. “Call your dragon off, or you’ll never see the key again!”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Milord!” Karista gasped, eyeing the artifact nervously.
“I mean it,” Mik said, as Tanalish swooped closer. “I’ll drop it and neither you nor your dragon pals will ever see it again.”
“Hold, Tanalish!” Kell cried. “Don’t kill them.”
The harpy-like dragon backed her wings and hovered overhead. “They are worms, Benthor Kell,” she said. “They deserve death. If he drops the trinket, I will find it again.”
“Call her off,” Mik repeated. “Then maybe we can talk.”
Benthor Kell glared at Mik, then Ula. “Very well,” he said, not taking his eyes off the sea elf. “Leave them, Tanalish.”
The dragon’s green eyes flashed, but she said, “As the will of my lord, so is your own, Benthor Kell.” She landed on the deck and resumed her human form-though the damage from her battle with Shimmer had scarred her perfect face and figure.
“Send your warriors back to your ship, first,” Mik said.
“Your dragon can look after them,” added a familiar voice. Battered and bloody, Ula slowly lifted herself off the deck and stood beside Mik.
Tanalish glanced warily from Ula and Mik to Lord Kell. “Do not trust them, Benthor Kell,” the dragon warned.
“I don’t,” Kell replied. “See to the ship. I’ll call if I need you.”
The dragon nodded and withdrew, along with Kell’s brass warriors.
Jerick pulled a red kerchief from his pocket and mopped his face. “If you don’t mind,” he said, “I’ll secure my ship against the storm. Plenty of time for parley once this blows over.”