Skyreach was surprised when she found she had to release a tight breath before she could answer. "Yes."
"Would it not have come to this," the mage said, shaking his head.
"You have the strength?"
A new light flared within the old mage's eyes. "Milady, my magicks were something your great-grandfather counted on. I never let him down."
"Then don't let me down either."
His eyes locked with hers and held. "I will not."
An ache pierced Skyreach's heart, surprising her. She had always kept her distance from men and women she commanded, especially those like Cylthik who had known her as a child. Command was never easy, and familiarity-she'd been told-only bred contempt. She pushed the emotion away. "Thank you, Cylthik. Now see that it is done."
"And where will you be?"
"Up on the deck," Skyreach answered simply. "I have men dying there, to fulfill this mission that I undertook. There can be no other place for me."
"You great-grandfather would be proud."
"No," Skyreach said as she turned her back and started back along the passageway. "Faimcir Glitterwing would expect no less." Before she reached the top of the stairs coming up out of the passenger hold, she felt Cylthik's magicks cascading around her.
Above decks, the fires incinerating the sails had almost died out, but the light was replaced by lanterns held by the attacking pirates. The humans among them wouldn't have the excellent night vision of the elves. The expanding circle of lanterns marked the outer perimeters of the pirates' encroachment.
Reacting instantly, taking the pitch and yaw of the ship into account, the elven warrior parried the slashing thrust at her head, then riposted and shoved the point of her long sword deep into the man's throat. She yanked it out of flesh forcibly, lifting a foot and kicking the dying man in the face.
Gazing across the deck, she saw Scaif battling three men. The warrior's long sword and dagger seemed to be everywhere, and his footing was sure in spite of the wet deck. The dagger licked out suddenly, sending a pirate spinning away. Even as the man fell, his throat cut, two more pirates took his place.
Further down, Captain Rinnah held off a group of pirates with a belaying pin and a cutlass. The burly man roared with savage glee, almost sounding as if he was enjoying the fight despite the fact that his ship was coming apart around him.
Over half her warriors were dead. Skyreach figured that from the numbers she could count that were alive. Only a few of the bodies remained aboard the cargo ship. The sea had claimed the rest.
However, Skyreach knew that Cylthik's magicks would make the sea give up those dead. Their souls were already claimed by a service that they would not be released from. She moved out of the hold as two more pirates came at her.
Putting her back to the wall, she dropped into a defensive position.
"A woman!" one of the men roared. "I claim first rights!" He was middle-aged and gap-toothed, tattoos scoring the flesh of his cheeks.
"First, second, or thirtieth," the second pirate bellowed back, "it matters not to me. The feel of a woman's flesh is something I've been missing for too long now."
Skyreach didn't hesitate. Her left hand closed about the dagger at her hip, ripping it free. She parried the first man's thrust, taking advantage of their efforts to take her alive. The second man stepped in closer, thinking to be too quick for her. Skyreach swirled back around and opened a gash in the pirate's thigh near his crotch with the long sword. Only his quick reflexes powered by fear kept him from being unmanned.
"Damn her!" the pirate screamed, stepping back, his palm pressed to his wound. "Kill her and be done with it!"
Feinting, Skyreach whirled again, stepping into the other man's hasty lunge. The elven warrior lifted her dagger, holding it point downward from her fist. She whipped her arm back and sheathed the dagger into the man's gapped teeth. The point slid home easily, then became lodged in the spinal column at the back of the neck.
The wounded pirate lunged forward again, his cutlass hacking at Skyreach's face. She ducked below the blow and twisted away. As the pirate readied himself for another swing, she.brought her long sword up and shoved it through the man's armor, through his breastbone, and into the heart beyond.
The pirate gasped and stiffened in surprise, gazing down at the enchanted rune blade that had run through his leather armor as if it were so much paper. He died and toppled over, sliding from the long sword.
Skyreach glanced out over the darkening waves. The moon retreated behind a bank of clouds as if afraid to see what would happen next. The deck of Chalice of the Crowns was lit only by the lanterns carried by the pirates and the few that hadn't been washed out along the cargo ship itself.
"Gyynyth Skyreach!"
The elven warrior turned at the sound of her name, tracking the voice through the crash and boom of the sea slapping at the cargo ship, and the pirate vessel pounding up against its prey. She spotted the man coming up the stairway from a lower deck, then recognized him by his movements and dress.
"Hagris!" The name ripped from her lips like an oath of the foulest nature.
Markiln Hagris gained the deck with acrobatic ease. Broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, the man was Tel'Quessir, a Gold elf. He'd held a high station on the Council of Twelve. His armor would have prevented such physical alacrity had it not been mystical in nature and wrought from the best metalsmiths in the City of Songs. His face was lean as a wolfs, his nose as pointed. Long red hair was tied back in braids, trimmed to lend him an aristocracy that his features failed to give him.
He gave her a courfly bow, stooping low, but never taking his eyes from her. "At your service." His long sword gleamed in the lantern light.
"Betrayer!" Skyreach shifted on the deck, keeping her own long sword between them. "It was you who set these yapping dogs at my heels!"
Other pirates gathered along the outer edge of the deck, snarling foul oaths and making rude comments. Thankfully, the roar of the sea carried most of them away.
"Yes," Hagris replied. "Unlike many in Myth Drannor's courts, I believed in what Faimcir Glitterwing was doing. Preserving knowledge from the masses. There are things to be known only among the Tel'Quessir, and only a handful of them are to know it all."
"And you think yourself to be one of them?"
Hagris smiled. "Perhaps the only one if this does work out to your benefit." He raised his sword meaningfully.
"Yet you allay yourself with humans and kobolds, and social malcontents. No wonder my great-grandfather never allowed you into our home."
"His mistake," Hagris assured her, "and he paid his life for making it."
A chill ran through Skyreach at the confirmation. Rumors still circulated concerning the how of Faimcir Glitterwing's murder. She felt it change to anger, and held onto it. Cylthik's magicks rose stronger around her. The mage had prepared long for this day, all of them hoping against it.
"You've signed your death warrant," Skyreach said.
"Milady Skyreach, I seem to hold the view that I am in the position of signing your death warrant."
Behind the pirate leader, Skyreach saw the rest of her men being killed and cornered. They couldn't last but a few moments more.
"You can make this hard on yourself," Hagris said, "or you can submit. Either way, I shall claim what is mine. Your great-grandfather's collections are far more valuable than many were willing to believe. I'll have this ship, then I'll have the location of where the rest of it was hidden."
Skyreach shook her head. "You've laid down your life for nothing. You'll never have any of it."