“Nikandr!”
How could that be?
“Nikandr, leap!”
Nikandr shook his head violently.
The ship was diving toward the sea, her nose tipped seaward, the white-capped waves high and moving fast. Jahalan was standing on the windward mainmast, ready to leap free.
Nikandr launched himself toward Jahalan. He fell only a few steps out and slid down the deck as the ship continued to rotate. Jahalan reached for him, but Nikandr shot past.
He managed to leap and grab onto the ratlines leading up to the starward mizzenmast. So brittle was the wood that the mizzen snapped, and he found himself sliding once more.
He struck the forward hull and latched onto it as the ship’s starward masts tipped toward the horizon. “Go!” he commanded.
Both of them leapt just as the ship crashed into the sea.
Bitterly cold water enveloped him as he plunged beneath the waves. Hundreds of feet of rigging and yard upon yard of sail fell around him, occluding his vision. Something bit into his ribs, and began pulling him downward. He pulled himself free, feeling something scrape against his skin as he did so.
He fought for the surface. When he finally broke free of the waves, he drew on the air as if it were the liquor of life itself while wave after wave rolled over him. The spray was high, and it was difficult to see anything but the blue-white waves, but among the flotsam, he thought he saw one of the crew. He swam in that direction, using a barrel that had floated free from the ship. He was nearly exhausted by the time he reached him.
It was Viggen. He was face-down in the water, and Nikandr knew as he turned him over that he was dead.
“Jahalan!”
He screamed his name again and again.
A short while later he heard a muffled cry for help behind him. He turned in the water, seeing nothing for a moment, but then he saw a form beneath a swath of canvas that was still attached to the mast. He swam, fighting the waves with every stroke, and felt something strike his leg beneath the water. He dove under, and saw the long white tail of a serpent slither into the dark.
He regained his breath and then sucked in one last intake before heading under. He kicked beneath the rigging and reached Jahalan, who was caught beneath the sail. His movements were frantic. Nikandr could see that he was trapped in a mass of ropes and netting, and the struggling was only making things worse.
He pulled the kindjal from the sheath at his belt and with his free hand began to pull some of the ropes away. He hoped that once Jahalan realized he was here to help he would stop thrashing. He did a moment later, but Nikandr realized it was because he had fallen unconscious.
He sawed at the ropes that would not come free easily, but in his haste, he cut Jahalan’s thigh. His thoughts turned to the white serpent, but the best thing he could do now was to free Jahalan and swim for the island.
Above them, the ship rolled further. The sails were pulled down on top of them, dragging them beneath the surface.
The water was dark, making it difficult to see, so he swam deeper, the only clear way to get out. He kicked away from the ship, hoping he could distance them enough that they could clear the sails.
His lungs burned. His legs and arms and chest screamed from the struggle to gain distance. But he kept going.
His breath finally gave, and he had no choice but to surface. More rigging blocked his path, but here it was sparse, and he managed to drag Jahalan through it.
He broke the surface, but not before taking in a lungful of salty water. He released long, wracking coughs. While supporting Jahalan’s head to his chest, he leaned back into the water and kicked away from the ship.
“Jahalan?”
The only reply was the high wind whipping the tips of the cold white waves against his face.
“Jahalan, can you hear me?”
He wasn’t breathing.
A goodly portion of a mast lay nearby. Nikandr reached it, and although it was cracking and brittle, it held well enough for him to lay Jahalan over it. He squeezed Jahalan’s chest and forced the water from his lungs while trying to prevent him from slipping back beneath the waves.
“Jahalan, wake up!”
When no more water came up, he slapped Jahalan’s back, slapped his cheeks, while continuing to call to him.
Suddenly Jahalan coughed and shook his head violently, then sucked in a rasping lungful of air.
Nikandr held him tight to the wood lest he take in more water. “Calm down,” Nikandr said, “you’re fine.”
“I am”-he coughed for a long minute-“anything but fine.”
Nikandr could have laughed. It felt good, even among all this madness, to have his friend with him, alive. He guided Jahalan toward shore. The majority of the ship still lay on the surface behind them, but it was breaking apart from the action of the waves and the brittle nature of the wood.
What in the name of the ancients were they going to do now? Were Ashan and Nasim-
Suddenly Jahalan was pulled beneath the water. When he resurfaced, he let out an excited shout, and Nikandr felt something cold slide along his left leg. Nikandr kicked violently, hoping to scare the serpent away, at least for a time.
“My leg!” Jahalan screamed.
“I know.” Nikandr pulled his kindjal again and watched the water closely. “Just keep moving.”
“I can’t.”
“Keep moving or these waters will see the death of us.”
Jahalan moaned and grit his teeth, but he kicked, and with Nikandr’s help, they made progress against the incessant waves.
The head of the serpent glided through the water toward them. He dove below and stabbed, but the serpent broke off and swam away.
When he came up, however, the image in his mind made his breath come doubly fast.
“What?” Jahalan’s eyes were wide and frightened.
“Nothing,” Nikandr lied. In that brief moment, he’d seen three other serpents gliding through the water, waiting for their chance to come for blood.
CHAPTER 44
“Just keep moving,” Nikandr said.
They swam, Nikandr spending more time under the water than above. Jahalan knew what was happening-it was impossible not to-but he did not understand the full extent of it. There were no less than eight of them, Nikandr realized after a short while.
The waters around them were for the time being blessedly free of the serpents. He found out why only a short while later. He heard a panicked shout. Using his legs to kick as he crested a wave, he saw nearly a dozen survivors swimming together. A straggler was yanked downward. He didn’t even have time to scream, but a moment later he resurfaced and his shrieks rent the air. He was tugged downward two more times, and he screamed for help the entire time. Two crewmen swam toward him, but before they could come close the man who’d been singled out by the serpents was dragged under. He was not seen again.
They moved a few hundred yards, the spray from the waves pelting their faces, when the bone-white serpents returned. Two of them shot in toward Jahalan. Nikandr dove beneath the surface and stabbed one of them, but the other slithered to one side and lunged for his arm. He tried to pull it away, but wasn’t fast enough. He managed to avoid getting caught in the grips of the serpent’s jaws, but the small, sharp teeth grazed his forearm, leaving bloody gashes in its wake.
“Faster!” Nikandr shouted.
Jahalan tried, but his endurance was nearly at its limit. The same was true for Nikandr, but the soul-wracking fear of seeing the creatures face-to-face was enough to keep him going a while longer.