Drake looked towards the main mast and the little jar of black liquid that sat nearby, securely nestled within a padded wool cocoon. Everfire was one part alchemy, one part magic. Beck had managed to make just twelve small jars of the stuff in the three days before they left New Sev’relain, and one of those had been used to test it. Drake had never seen water set on fire before; it was a terrifying sight to behold.
They were all up to a good speed now, with North Storm leading the pack, breaking away to bear down on their enemies like a charging boar. Drake stared through his monoscope towards the enemy fleet. They were in a far less ordered formation, with some ships straggling behind while others surged ahead. He felt a grin stretch across his face.
“I’m sorry,” Beck said.
“Eh?” Drake grunted, turning to face her.
Bang!
The first shot hit Drake in the midsection. The force knocked him against the railing, where he collapsed onto the deck, a look of utter confusion on his face. Beck wasn’t sure whom she hated more – Inquisitor Vance for giving the order or herself for carrying it out.
Shouts came from nearby, and they would soon be followed by the sounds of boots on the deck. Beck needed to finish the job before the crew reached them.
Drawing a second pistol, she realised her right hand was still shaking. It was the injury she’d taken in the battle of New Sev’relain. It had to be. Her eyes started to blur a little, and she blinked away the tears.
“Why?” Drake managed to ask. He was still slumped against the railing, dark red blood leaking from his mouth and dripping from his chin. More red was soaking into his shirt. He wouldn’t survive – Beck was sure of it – but Inquisitor Vance had ordered her to be certain.
“Sorry,” she whispered again as she pulled the trigger on the second pistol.
Drake’s body shook with the force of the impact and keeled over sideways, blood spreading out over the deck. Beck took a deep breath and sighed it out even as the first of the Fortune’s crew reached her.
Stepping to the side of the wild slash, Beck whispered a blessing of strength and punched the pirate in the chest. The poor man’s ribs snapped loudly and he collapsed.
Beck drew another pistol, and a moment later another pirate dropped to the deck to bleed out his last. She walked towards the main mast. Inquisitor Vance had been adamant that neither Drake nor the Fortune could be allowed to survive to make it into the battle.
Another two pirates came for her, this time one to each side. Beck whispered the words of a sorcery and stamped a foot onto the deck. The wood warped and twisted as it rippled outwards. The pirates didn’t even have time to move away as the decking rose around their feet and locked them in place. Beck moved on without so much as a glance at the two helpless men.
Just before she reached the main mast, something heavy dropped onto Beck from above, knocking her flat onto the deck and darkening her vision for a moment. It didn’t take long to realise she was lying there entangled with a pirate who was struggling to remain conscious after his landing. Beck kicked the fool away and struggled to get back to her feet, shaking her head to clear away the dizziness that threatened her.
Something tugged on the bottom of her coat, and Beck turned to see the pirate who had dropped onto her clinging to a loose seam. She pulled a pistol from her jerkin, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The pirate’s grip loosened in death.
There was shouting all over now as some pirates rushed to the aid of their fallen captain while others closed in on Beck. They were all too late.
She plucked her fallen hat from the deck and placed the tricorn back on her head, then picked up the jar of Everfire.
Chapter 57 - The Phoenix
“Cap’n,” Smithe shouted, hysterical.
“What is it, Smithe?”
“The Fortune.” Smithe pointed.
Drake’s ship was aflame. Black fire danced over the deck, twisting in the breeze and whipping at the sails, leaving orange flames in its wake. Keelin hadn’t seen the Everfire when they tested it out near New Sev’relain. He’d heard folk say it had a life of its own that not even water could extinguish; now he could see for himself that it was true. The black flames went where they would, neither growing nor diminishing, and everything they touched was set ablaze.
Keelin looked back at their own jar of Everfire and felt his stomach twist. There would be no saving a ship besieged by the black flame. There was no saving Drake’s ship. The Everfire would burn until there was nothing left but ash floating on the water. Keelin turned back to the Fortune just as a pirate enveloped in flames careened over the side of the ship.
“What should we do, Captan?” Morley said.
Keelin watched the Fortune slow and drop behind; its sails were all alight now, and its crew’s screams could be heard drifting across the water.
“Nothing,” he said quietly, turning to look at the approaching fleet. “Keep on.”
“But Drake…”
Keelin silenced his first mate with a glare then turned to Smithe. “Get that thing covered.” He pointed to the jar of Everfire. “I don’t want a stray arrow turning my ship into a pyre.”
As they left Drake’s ship behind, burning black and orange amidst the blue, Keelin realised how quickly they were coming up on their enemy. North Storm was out in front as planned, but not by a lot. The giant figure of T’ruck Khan was visible at the bow of his ship. The man feared nothing, and that was something Keelin wished to emulate.
“Hands on deck,” he roared. “Weapons at the ready. Archers fire at will.”
Closer and closer now. The enemy ships started to grow large, and the scale of the battle facing them humbled Keelin. Boats spread out across the horizon on both sides as far as he could see. He had little time to contemplate the matter.
The enemy ship facing North Storm started to turn, but it was too late and all it accomplished was presenting its port side to the larger vessel. A crack and crash echoed out across the water as the steel ram on the bow of North Storm connected with the smaller ship, splitting it in half. Keelin didn’t have time to appreciate the destruction; a Five Kingdoms boat was sailing alongside them, blocking the view.
Arrows flew from the navy vessel. Some thudded into the deck while others sailed clean over to land in the deep blue beyond. At least one of the arrows found a mark, the pirate’s scream loud and clear. The Five Kingdoms vessel, a galleon roughly the same size as The Phoenix, was too close, and their hulls crashed together, scraping across each other. Keelin almost lost his footing, grabbing a nearby railing to stay upright. The noise of the two ships colliding was a terrible groan, and Keelin could only hope it hadn’t put a hole in the The Phoenix.
The first few Five Kingdoms men hopped aboard, and the sounds of battle quickly followed them. One brave sailor jumped from the navy yard, swinging across on a loose rope and coming to a rolling stop just a few feet away. He drew two swords and charged.