Explorer of the Endless Sea E-Book

Jack Campbell

• Herausgeber: JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Empress of the Endless Sea
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 493

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Now captain of her own pirate ship, Jules of Landfall faces ambushes by Mage assassins and threats from Mechanics who can't decide whether to kill her or try to use her for their own ends. The Emperor has made her an offer he doesn't think she can refuse, but Jules wants nothing to do with that gilded cage. Now, the Emperor's forces are redoubling their efforts to capture her. The free ships of the pirates have never gathered around any single leader, but when the Mechanics seek to limit the power of the Empire, Jules realizes it offers her a means to grow the strength of the free people escaping the Emperor's grasp. Gaining access to the strange Mechanic weapons known as "revolvers", she marshals her forces in an unprecedented attempt to capture an Imperial settlement. Ultimately, Jules must play the three greatest powers in the world against each other, in a desperate gambit to survive.

Leseprobe

EXPLORER OF THE ENDLESS SEA

Copyright © 2020 by John G. Hemry

All rights reserved.

Published as an eBook in 2020 by JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.

Originally published as in Audible Original in March 2020.

ISBN 978-1-625675-03-3

Cover art by Dominick Saponaro

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.

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[email protected]

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Also by Jack Campbell

ToSelena “The Dread Pirate” Rosen, a great writer,and perhaps the kindest person I’ve ever known.For S, as always

Acknowledgements

I remain indebted to my agents, Joshua Bilmes and Eddie Schneider, for their long standing support, ever-inspired suggestions and assistance, as well as to Susan Velazquez, Adriana Funke, and Lisa Rodgers for their work on foreign sales and print editions. Many thanks to Betsy Mitchell for her excellent editing. Thanks also to Catherine Asaro, Robert Chase, Kelly Dwyer, Carolyn Ives Gilman, J.G. (Huck) Huckenpohler, Simcha Kuritzky, Michael LaViolette, Aly Parsons, Bud Sparhawk, Mary G. Thompson, and Constance A. Warner for their suggestions, comments and recommendations. And, of course, thank you to Steve Feldberg for his strong support.

Chapter One

Every sail set, the Sun Queen rolled over the top of a vast swell and plunged into the trough beyond, an explosion of white spray erupting as her bow cleaved the dark waters of the Sea of Bakre. Jules of Landfall, high on the mainmast, grasped a stay line, hearing the wind singing in the rigging and feeling the tension in the rope as if the Queen were a racehorse trembling with the excitement of the chase. Ships might be made of wood and metal and rope, she thought, but they were nonetheless living things, and like all living things they craved the lack of confinement that only the open sea could offer. And with the Queen running on a broad reach with a brisk breeze coming from aft and off her port quarter, she had sea room to spare and the wind to urge her on.

Jules raised one hand to shield her eyes as she gazed at another ship visible a ways to starboard and ahead of the Sun Queen. From this high up on the mainmast, she had a good view of the other ship, its hull and masts easily visible as the distance between the two ships continued to shrink. The Queen’s prey this day had begun running once catching sight of the other ship, but he wasn’t as fast and he had the deadly rocks of the southern coast on his other side, preventing him from fleeing that way.

Trapped.

She felt a moment of sympathy for the captain and the crew of the other ship, penned in by the savage reefs of the south to one side and the oncoming danger of a pirate ship on the other. Jules knew how it felt to be trapped, to be caged. She’d grown up in a harsh Legion Orphanage, a ward of the Emperor whose generosity toward the orphans of those who’d died in his service was grudging and minimal. She’d escaped the walls surrounding the orphanage by earning a chance at an officer’s commission in the Emperor’s legions, only to learn that the Imperial officer corps was another prison whose cells were formed of rules and regulations and demands, as well as social expectations that the spawn of an orphanage could never meet.

The whole world of Dematr was a cage, of course. The iron hand of the Emperor ruled over the entire area to the east of the great land-locked sea, forbidding cliffs walled off much of the coasts to the north and south, and the land to the west, according to every map, was a nightmare of unexplored, hidden reefs with desert wastelands beyond. And ruling over the Emperor and every other common man and woman were the Mechanics Guild and the Mage Guild, the two Great Guilds who controlled the lives of every common person, and did what they wanted to anyone. The Great Guilds weren’t above the law; they were the law.

And then the final, biggest trap of all. The prophecy spoken by a Mage as he stared at her. The day will come when a daughter of your line will unite Mechanics, Mages, and the common folk to overthrow the Great Guilds and free the world. The prophecy that had tried to turn her into nothing but a vessel for some future outcome, robbed of any meaning regarding who she was.

But also a way out of those cages someday—for everyone who might be alive when the prophecy came to pass. But not for her. So rather than wait for an event likely to occur long after she was gone, Jules had resolved to start breaking out of some of the cages. Some of those who had already tried to stop her had not lived long enough to regret their mistake.

Since the prophecy, she’d come to realize that the people of Dematr accepted their cages as facts of life. Things had always been like, and always would be. But if the prophecy was true (and Mage prophecies were supposedly always true) things would change. But that would require men and women who believed they could break out of their cages, who were willing to do things no one else had ever done.

Jules felt the wind at her back and the rolling of the ship, smelled the salt-laden air, and knew no cage could ever hold her. Not while the sea was open to her. Unforgiving though the sea might be, jealous of her secrets and eager to punish those who took her too lightly, her waters also offered the only freedom to be found on this world.

Turning her head to look back to the west, Jules felt a familiar urge, a desire to seek out those uncharted and allegedly deadly waters, to see what really lay there.

Someday.

Because someone would have to show the world that every cage could be broken. And, from the looks of things, that someone would have to be her.

She glanced upward before heading down the rigging, seeing her new banner flapping in the wind. Two crossed swords, one a straight Imperial blade and the other a curved pirate’s cutlass. The two halves of her, united into a single outward force even as they struggled for balance inside.

Stepping off the ratline she’d balanced on, Jules hand-over-handed down a shroud to the deck, her calloused hands barely noticing the stings of the hemp fibers sticking out of the rope. She dropped the last lance to the deck, the Imperial officer boots she still wore thumping onto the wooden planks. Running up the short ladder onto the quarterdeck, Jules gestured toward the other ship. “I didn’t see anyone on deck except for the sailor at the helm. He’s holding course and keeping all sail on.”

“He doesn’t have much choice,” First Mate Ang replied. Large, with a sturdiness that could be reassuring to friends and intimidating to everyone else, he didn’t seem pleased by what should be good news.

Jules nodded to the sailor at the helm. “Keep her on this heading.” Sound calm, she reminded herself. Give clear orders. Don’t let excitement or worry mess with your head. Pay attention to the mood of your own people. Lessons for an Imperial officer that had proven to be useful to a pirate captain.

Turning to Ang, she gave him a questioning look. “What’s the matter?”

Ang made a face that shifted through a few expressions before settling into a frown. “Cap’n, it just seems too easy. Most of the Emperor’s ships are trying to catch you, and the Mechanics and the Mages are trying to kill you. Nothing should be easy.”

“He’s right there,” Liv agreed. The older woman leaned on the starboard rail of the quarterdeck, looking toward their quarry. “There’re no other masts visible?”

“No,” Jules said. “I scanned the whole horizon. If he has hidden help, they’re well beyond him.”

“Not to his starboard. They’d be grazing the reefs there.”

“They’d be in the reefs,” Ang said. “He’s steering closer to shore than I’d be comfortable with in these waters.”

“We are chasing him,” Jules said, leaning on the railing beside Liv.

“Ripping his hull open on those rocks wouldn’t help him get away,” Ang said. “He’s too close to them.”

“Maybe there’s a stupid owner aboard demanding it,” Liv said, frowning as well. “Or maybe their captain knows these waters well enough to think he can dare waters like that, maybe even lure us onto one of the reefs?”

“Maybe,” Jules said. She glanced up at the sails, all drawing well. Unless the wind shifted, there’d be no need to adjust the sails. But she worried over Ang’s concerns. Ang had been at sea a lot longer than she had. His instincts were worth listening to.

She gazed toward the fleeing ship again, asking herself a question that had grown familiar in the last few months. What would Mak do? The Sun Queen’s former captain had been the only authority figure Jules had met in her life who had tried to teach her instead of trying to break her. But he’d had far too short a time to work with her, and at times like this Jules felt the ache of how much she still had to learn. The crew of the Sun Queen had voted her captain despite her being only twenty-one years of age, but more than once Jules had wished she had as much confidence in herself as her crew did. “Ang, Liv, what do you think Captain Mak would be thinking right now?”

“Mak?” Liv shook her head. “You got to think for yourself, Captain, not worry about what Mak would’ve done.”

“She’s right to ask,” Ang protested. “Mak could out-sail anybody, and he could smell trouble a hundred lances off. I’m thinking now of what he used to say when something looked easy. If it looks easy, he’d tell me, that likely means there’s something you don’t know about it.”

“That’s no Imperial galley,” Liv said. “And there’s no help lurking nearby or we’d see it. He’s just a cargo ship, and by the way he’s riding he’s got a good load aboard. We need the money that cargo’ll bring,” she added meaningfully.

Jules nodded, her eyes on the waves where they washed against the other ship’s hull. Heavily laden, probably with salt out of the Imperial mines. With the Emperor’s warships scouring the waters off the Imperial coast for any sign of Jules, it had seemed prudent to seek safer waters for a while. But there were lean pickings this far west, so the Sun Queen hadn’t found many ships to prey on in recent days. Even the pirate of the prophecy had to worry about such mundane things as having enough money to keep the ship in repair, buy food and water and rum, and keep the crew happy. “But he’s out here alone. No Imperial warships in sight even though they’ve been prowling this coast looking for us. What are we not seeing? I think we need to get closer and find out.”

“How much closer?” Ang said.

“We’re upwind of him, and we’re faster. If we have to open the distance quickly, we can do that. We’ll get close enough to look him over, see if there’re any signs of a trap, before we go alongside. I got enough of a look at his deck to be sure he doesn’t have a ballista mounted, so he can’t hurt us if we’re out of crossbow range.” She’d trained on crossbows under the far from gentle guidance of Imperial centurions, and knew how far they could fire and have a good chance of a hit. “Fifty lances. No hand-held crossbow will have decent accuracy at that range. Take us in to about fifty lances from him and hold us there.”

Ang nodded. “Aye, Cap’n.”

“Liv,” Jules said, “get the boarding party armed.”

As Liv ran off to see to the task of arming most of the crew, Jules went back down the ladder and into the stern cabin. The captain’s cabin. She still thought of it as Mak’s, but it belonged to her now.

She didn’t require much preparation, strapping on a belt from which a cutlass hung on one hip. On the other hip was an oddly-shaped leather sheath for a weapon the Mechanics called a revolver. She drew out the strange weapon, looking at it and wondering again at how it could have been made. The Mechanics guarded the secrets of their technology with deadly and highly efficient means, leaving even smiths among the commons unable to guess the methods by which the metal of the revolver had been made and shaped.

“You going to carry that?” Liv asked from the doorway.

“I need it,” Jules said. “You never know when I might run into another Mage.” She settled the weapon carefully back into the holster.

“If you run into any Mechanics, they’ll kill you just for having that. How many commons do you think have ever held one of those? Let alone shot one?”

“I might be the first,” Jules said. “The Mechanics thought they’d use me to kill Mages.”

“They were right,” Liv said. “I don’t know how many other commons have ever killed a Mage. Maybe none.”

“Then it’s about time someone started.” Jules felt in her pocket, pulling out the two objects kept safe in there. “Do you know about these? The Mechanics call them cartridges. They’re what the revolver shoots, like the bolts for a crossbow. But a cartridge can only be used once, then it’s empty and useless.”

“How many of them have you got?”

“Eight left of the eleven I had after the Mechanics gave me more that last time.”

Liv shook her head. “That’d be the time they realized that they hadn’t been actually using you, that you’d been using them?”

Jules’ grin at the memory felt tense. “Good thing I didn’t snap and speak my mind until after they’d given me more cartridges. But…all’s well, right? I got away after.”

“With Mechanics shooting and a Mage dragon breathing down your neck,” Liv scoffed. “They say nobody else has ever been that close to a dragon’s jaws and lived to tell of it.”

“But I did live, didn’t I?” Looking down at the weapon again, Jules glanced at Liv. “I should teach you and Ang how to use this. Just in case something happens to me.”

“No,” Liv said. “I’ll not touch that thing. Not just because the Mechanics Guild demands the death of any common who meddles with their devices—and why should I invite as much attention from them as you have to deal with—but because I have no use for something that kills by means I don’t understand. It could do me in, couldn’t it?”

“I don’t think so,” Jules said. “The Mechanics told me if I tried to use it against one of them it would explode and kill me.” She raised the weapon, smiling again. “Someday I’m going to try it anyway.”

“Save it for Mages,” Liv said. “Jules, sometimes you scare even me.”

Jules shrugged and put the revolver back into the sheath the Mechanics called a holster. “Maybe you don’t need a Mechanic weapon to kill Mages. Liv, I killed two Mages on this ship, and I did it using a cutlass.”

“Yeah, you could do that. But…Jules, you’re different than the rest of us.”

“Am I?”

Liv sighed and raised her eyes upward like an aggravated parent. “I know you don’t like being reminded of the prophecy—”

“Do you think I ever forget it? For even a moment?” Jules turned her head to look through the cabin’s small stern windows at the sea, though what she saw wasn’t the restless waters but a memory seared into her mind. “I can still see as clear as day the eyes of that Mage as he stared at me. Ever since then my life hasn’t belonged to me.”

“And you’ve been so careful with it,” Liv grumbled sarcastically. “You shouldn’t be running any risks. Not until—”

“That’s enough of that, Liv.” Jules grasped the dagger in a sheath at the small of her back, checking to be sure it could be drawn easily. “I won’t spend my life in hiding. I’m going to do things that that daughter of my line will hear about and know she has to match, whenever she shows up. Mak thought it might be hundreds of years.”

“You’d better hope that daughter doesn’t inherit your stubbornness,” Liv said.

“She’ll probably need it.” Jules kept her eyes on the waves behind the Sun Queen, feeling the now-familiar frustration. “How can anyone ever do that? Mechanics and Mages hate each other, and to them commons like you and me might as well be cattle or horses. But this daughter of my line is going to unite some of them, get them to work together, to free everyone? It’s impossible.”

“If a Mage prophesized it, it has to come true,” Liv insisted. “That’s why the Mages, and the Mechanics, want you dead before you start that line. And that’s why for the first time the commons have hope.”

“And that’s why half the men in the world seem to think they’d be doing me a great favor by getting me pregnant so they could claim credit for the things that daughter of my line will do,” Jules said.

“If you keep slitting the throats of those that proposition you, they may start being a little less eager to ask.”

Jules laughed. “There’s that to hope for! I didn’t have nearly as many men bothering me for a while after I knifed that jerk Vlad. Let’s go see if we’re close enough to give that other ship a good look over.”

Out on deck again, Jules paused to gauge the distance, nodding in approval. “I’m going up again!” she called to Ang, and grabbed the rigging to swing herself up onto the lowest ratlines.

She went all the way up to the highest top, where one of the crew was stationed to keep watch. “See anyone else, Kyl?”

Kyl shook his head. “Maybe a masthead way off to port, but barely showing. That way.”

Jules gazed in the direction Kyl indicated, studying the horizon where a tiny dot might or might not be appearing and vanishing as the Sun Queen rolled and pitched to the motion of the sea. “Yeah. Keep an eye out.”

One foot on the top, one hand grasping a stay line, Jules leaned out to starboard, gazing down toward the ship they were pursuing. Both ships were heading east, the nearby coast to the south of them, open water ahead for many thousands of lances, as well as to the north and back to the west. But with the Sun Queen upwind of her prey the other ship couldn’t break north or come about to try tacking west. East was the only path open to him, and as the Sun Queen closed in he wouldn’t be able to avoid capture much longer.

In contrast to the crowded deck of the Sun Queen, the only sailor visible on the other ship was the one at the helm, both arms spread to grasp the wheel, his or her face averted from the Sun Queen, perhaps gazing at the water to the starboard of the other ship.

Jules gasped as she raised her own gaze to those waters. Just on the other side of that ship, she saw patches of water of varying shades, eddies and currents that spoke of sudden shallows, and here and there the flash of white spray against the jagged fangs of some reefs that extended above the water. “Blazes, he’s close.”

Kyl nodded. “That scared of us, you think?”

“Have you seen any others on deck or in the rigging?”

“No, Captain. Just that one.”

“Maybe some sort of illness?” Jules wondered. “Is the rest of the crew sick or dead? But his sails are all set and trimmed. One sailor couldn’t do all that.” She leaned out a little more, trying to see all of the deck of the other ship. A strip of the deck concealed behind the bulkhead still escaped her gaze, but not many could be hiding there and still be unseen from this angle. Raising her eyes, Jules looked past the other ship, seeing a few thousand lances to the south the light brown of patches of land and the gray-green of the salt marshes beyond. Nothing could be seen besides that, though, not a surprise on a stretch of land known as the Bleak Coast. “Keep an eye out for anyone else coming this way,” she reminded Kyl, before once again hand-over-handing her way down to the deck.

“He’s close enough to those reefs to his starboard to shave on them,” Jules told Ang. “But there’s nobody else visible above deck.”

“He could have fifty legionaries ready below decks,” Ang pointed out.

“The hatches are battened down. Legionaries, or anyone else, would have to come up the ladders one by one.” An odd situation, but not one that posed any obvious danger. And breaking off the pursuit, leaving the other ship to escape, would baffle her own crew and perhaps leave them questioning her nerve. Still, an odd situation.

Most of the Sun Queen’s crew were at this moment on the main deck, lining the rail facing the other ship, weapons in their hands and dreams of profit in their heads. Jules blew out an exasperated breath and made a decision. “Ang, bring us in to about five lances off his side so I can hail him. Liv, get the crossbows loaded and tell those carrying them to be prepared to shoot at anyone who pops up over that bulwark.”

She walked to stand by the quarterdeck railing facing the other ship as Ang directed the helm to bring the Sun Queen closer to her prey, holding her balance easily by shifting her weight on both legs as the deck tilted in response to the push of the rudder. The sailor at the helm spun the wheel again, steadying out on a parallel course only about five lances away from the other ship. After overtaking the other craft, the Sun Queen was now almost even with it, so that Jules was looking across the gap at the sailor at the helm, who still had his gaze firmly fixed in the other direction. Cupping her hands around her mouth, Jules bellowed across the remaining distance. “Ahoy the other ship! Surrender yourself and no one will be harmed, on the word of Captain Jules of Landfall.”

The helmsman didn’t react at all.

A rogue wave churned up by the nearby reefs and the water trapped between the hulls of the two ships slapped the side of the Sun Queen, spray flying to wet one side of Jules’ shirt and pants as she leaned out, further aggravating her.

“Ahoy!” Jules called again. “My patience is limited and you’re out of sea room! Surrender now or bear the consequences!” To emphasize her words, she drew her cutlass and brandished it over her head.

The reaction from the other ship shocked her as the sailor at the helm suddenly twisted his body to put the rudder over. A command to Ang to swing the Sun Queen away to avoid a collision froze on her lips as Jules realized the other ship had turned not toward the Queen in an attempt to ram but toward shore, into the reefs.

“He’s out of his mind!” Ang shouted.

“Hold our course!” Jules called back, wondering how much longer it would be before the inevitable happened, staring as the other ship opened the distance between them as it wove a desperate path toward land between the shoal waters and reefs.

“He’s trying to reach the shore!” Liv called. At the same time the fleeing ship heeled over as one side scraped a series of rocks rising like jagged teeth just above the surface, before lurching free to stagger onward.

“He won’t make it,” Ang said.

The merchant ship, heavily laden, navigated the deadly underwater maze of obstacles like an old ox trying to avoid stepping into rabbit holes. “Whoever’s at the helm knows what they’re doing,” Jules said. “How much farther do you think he’ll get?”

“He shouldn’t have gotten that far,” Ang said.

The other ship tried to turn hard, the bow coming around too slowly and the hull continuing forward. The next moment the ship shuddered as it struck a submerged reef, the hull rising out of the water as it ran up on the rocks. Jerked to a sudden halt, with the wind still pushing the sails, the mainmast shattered. Jules winced as the sound of the wooden mast snapping carried clearly across the water, followed by a discordant series of sharp notes as rigging and stay lines parted under the strain. The mainmast toppled forward, slamming into the foremast in a welter of tortured wood and ripping canvas, bringing down the foremast as well in a tangle of splintered lumber, lines, and torn sails falling across the bow of the doomed ship.

Perhaps twenty lances distant now, the Sun Queen sailed past the wreck, her crew stunned into momentary silence.

Ang broke the hushed silence. “If we launch our boats we might be able to salvage some of the cargo. And take off any survivors.”

Jules shook herself out of her shock at the watching the death of the other ship. “Good idea. Bring her about and see how close we can safely get before we launch the boats.”

“Aye, Cap’n.” Ang raised his voice to a shout. “On deck! Let go the braces! Slack windward sails and braces! Haul lee braces and sails! Helm, bring her about to port!”

The sailors who’d been gathered at the railing in anticipation of boarding the other ship raced to grab the lines, slacking one side and hauling in on the other side so the sails would be set to tack against the wind as the Sun Queen swung about to where the wreck of their prey rested on the reef. The ship’s speed dropped off sharply as the wind beat against the front of the sails before the Queen settled onto the new tack.

“Ready the boats,” Jules ordered, her eyes on the deadly waters between the Sun Queen and the wreck.

Liv yelled up to the quarterdeck. “I can’t see anyone on that ship! Where the blazes are they?”

Jules frowned, studying the wreck where it shuddered as waves slapped into it. Those waves would in time pound the wreck to splinters. The crew should be scurrying about, trying to launch their own boats. But no one could be seen moving on the other ship, even the sailor at the helm no longer visible.

“Leave it,” Ang advised, his face shadowed with worry. “There’s something wrong about that ship.”

“I won’t argue that,” Jules said. The need to try to salvage some of the cargo and save any members of the wrecked crew warred with her concern at the oddness of the situation.

Her next words died unspoken as Jules saw three figures rise into sight on the wreck from where they had been concealed behind the upper bulwark of the other ship.

Not sailors.

Mages.

Male or female couldn’t be told since the figures’ Mage robes concealed their shapes and the hoods of the robes their heads and faces. But there was no mistaking what they were.

If a Mage can see you, they can kill you, the old saying went.

She couldn’t see the eyes of any of the Mages, but Jules could feel their gazes on her. Feel it as if the eyes of the Mages were daggers already pressing at her throat.

Her thoughts flew in a whirl that felt slow but took only seconds. The distance was too great to have any chance of hitting any of the Mages with a shot from the revolver, even if she could get it out in time. Her crew, unnerved by the sudden appearance of three Mages, stood frozen, those who still held crossbows as unmoving as the others. That’s what commons did upon sight of a Mage. Run if you could, and if you couldn’t flee then freeze and hope the Mage would take no notice of you. It was widely known, after all, that no common weapon like a crossbow could kill a Mage. Trying would only bring their wrath upon you.

“Ang!” Jules shouted. “Hard to starboard!” Her cutlass still in one hand swung up in an instinctive gesture, as if that weapon’s blade could parry a Mage’s spell the way it could the slash of a sword.

A brilliant flash of light filled her eyes, and her thoughts vanished into darkness.

Chapter Two

“Jules! Jules! Captain!”

Faces loomed over her, close and frightened. Jules struggled to focus on them. “What the blazes?” she tried to say, but the words came out in a hoarse whisper.

Liv bent very close, her eyes staring into Jules’. “Can you think? Are you all right?”

“I…” Jules clenched her teeth as she suddenly became aware of a stripe of pain running down her body, as if someone had carefully poured acid along her arm, down her torso, and down one leg to her foot. At the same time, she realized she could smell smoke. “What’s burning?” she managed to gasp despite the pain.

“You are.” Liv stepped back, and someone splashed a bucket of seawater over Jules.

Jules fought back a scream as the cold salt water hit the burn.

Healer Keli came into her view, eyeing her. “Give her another, and get me some rum.”

By the time Jules got her eyes clear of the stinging salt water, Keli was leaning over her with a bottle. “Have a drink.”

She swallowed, the rum burning its way down her throat. Keli knelt and carefully poured a stream of the liquor down her body. Jules raised her head enough to see a strange pattern running down her arm and side, as if the outline of a many-branched fern had been seared into her flesh. The shirt on that side, and her pants as well, were ripped as if something had torn through them from the inside. “What the blazes happened?” she got out between clenched teeth as the burns blazed in response to the alcohol.

“It was lightning,” Liv said. “They say Mages can call it down from the sky, but it seemed to me it came straight from that other ship and hit you. We heard the crash of thunder at the same moment it struck. You went flying and landed on your back in a puff of white smoke.”

“What happened to my clothes?”

“No idea, girl. They were like that when you hit the deck. The lightning must’ve caused it.”

“Look at this,” another sailor, Marta, spoke up. “Your cutlass.”

Jules felt a strange crawling in her gut as she stared at the warped and blackened metal of the cutlass blade.

“Back where I grew up,” Marta said, “they put metal posts on top of buildings to draw the lightning away from the wood. Looks like your cutlass did the same.”

Jules squinted at her arm, seeing that the line of fern-like patterns ran from where her hand had gripped the cutlass, the marks on her resembling a thick trunk about two of her fingers wide, the strange fern marks branching out just as if they were growing from that main scar. “The lightning went down my side instead of into me?”

“You’re protected,” Liv said.

To her own surprise, Jules managed a derisive snort at the words. “That side of me was wet with spray. My clothes that ripped open were wet. Maybe that made a difference.” She tried to struggle to her feet, but Keli held her down long enough to gaze into her eyes again.

“She seems to be all right,” he finally said.

“You won’t be if you don’t get your paws off me!” Jules growled, shoving aside the healer’s hand.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Liv commented.

Jules made it to her feet, seeing that the Sun Queen was on a beam reach now, the wind from the east coming straight on against her port side as the ship sailed nearly due north away from the coast and the Mage-haunted wreck. She staggered to the stern rail, glaring at the small shape that was all that could be seen of the wreck from this distance. The heat of her burns faded into nothing and cold filled her as she thought of getting revenge on those Mages.

“Leave it,” Ang said, standing beside her. “They’re marooned on the Bleak Coast. Let thirst and hunger and the sun’s heat be their end, if such things can harm Mages.”

“What about the crew of that ship?” Healer Keli asked. “They’re marooned as well, and we all know they were forced to serve the Mages in this.”

“They were putting their boat in the water after we turned away,” Ang said. He raised his head and called to the lookout far above. “Kyle! Did they get their boat in the water?”

The answer came down faintly. “Aye! I saw four sailors get in, and then the three Mages.”

Jules stared toward the wreck before yelling upwards. “Kyle! Are you certain all three Mages got into the boat?”

“Aye, Captain. It came out into clear water, and they hoisted a sail and headed east. I can just make it out still.”

“The rats left the sinking ship,” Liv muttered. “Heading back to Landfall, no doubt.”

“Were there only four sailors aboard that ship?” Jules asked.

“Four couldn’t have handled a ship that big,” Ang said.

“Why’d the Mages just leave?” Keli said. “And not chase us in that boat?”

“A longboat couldn’t have caught us,” Ang said, then frowned. “Unless Mages can make a boat move very swiftly, as Mechanics can.”

“Yes,” Keli said. “And only the one attack, against the captain.”

“Ask a Mage,” Liv said. “Why do they do anything?”

Jules inhaled sharply. “They think they killed me.”

Keli thought about that, and nodded. “Like as not. That lightning should’ve done it, too. I never heard of anyone surviving a Mage attack like that. I met a healer once who talked about flowers left over from lightning striking a body. What’s on you must be what he meant.”

“Mages couldn’t even kill the Captain with lightning,” Gord said, sounding half-proud and half-amazed.

The silence that followed his words aggravated Jules as much as the pain of her injuries. “Lay off that nonsense. That lightning should’ve done more damage, but it didn’t. It was weak.”

“Why would it be weak?” Ang asked doubtfully.

“Ask a Mage!” Jules looked toward the wreck again. “As soon as we’re certain that boat the Mages took can’t see us, we’re coming about again. If there’s anyone left on that ship, they need rescuing.”

This time no one argued.

“I need to get a new shirt and pants,” Jules said, feeling the shredded fabric flap against her side and causing new flares of pain.

* * *

The sun had sunk far in the afternoon sky by the time the Sun Queen made it back to the vicinity of the crippled ship. Ang adjusted the sails so the ship would drift slowly past the wreck while Liv supervised getting the longboat into the water.

But when Jules moved to climb down into the boat, Liv stopped her with a stubborn expression. “I know appealing to your sense of self-preservation would be a waste of time, so I’ll mention what anyone else would’ve thought of before this. Those Mages think you’re dead, Jules. They’ll tell their Guild that, and all the Mages will stop hunting you until they learn you’re still alive. So wouldn’t it be wise for the sake of this ship and her crew, as well as your own life, to keep the Mages in the dark for as long as you may? Which means not showing yourself right away!”

“There aren’t any Mages left on that wreck,” Jules said, glowering at Liv.

“Is that what you say? Because we see none? And how many Mages did we see when we were approaching that ship the first time?”

Mak had told her more than once that being captain meant knowing when not to insist on doing what you wanted. Knowing that Liv was right, Jules bit her lip, stepping back. “All right. You command the longboat. See if there’s any chance of getting anything off the wreck, but not at any risk to the boat.”

“If you didn’t want to risk the boat, you wouldn’t be sending us into that field of reefs,” Liv scoffed. “Don’t worry, Captain. I’ve been sailing the Sea of Bakre longer than you’ve been breathing the air of this world.”

“I’ll still worry about you, Liv,” Jules said. “Don’t take any foolish chances.”

“I won’t. I’m not you,” Liv said with a grin before heading down into the boat with the other sailors who’d row it to the wreck.

Mak had also told Jules that sometimes responsibility meant sending someone else to do a risky job, and that she’d find that harder than doing the job herself. As in so much else, Mak had been right. Jules tried to distract herself by helping Ang keep the Sun Queen near the wreck without getting too close to the reefs, but still found her gaze frequently straying to the longboat as it navigated the reefs to reach the wreck without suffering damage or running aground.

Cori had relieved Kyle on lookout during the afternoon. “They’re alongside!” she finally called down from the maintop. “I see people on the wreck! No sign of trouble!”

Jules squinted toward the wreck, wishing she knew more of what was going on there. “Mechanics and Mages are supposed to have mysterious means of quickly passing messages over long distances,” she grumbled to Keli the healer, who was standing beside her on the quarterdeck. “I wish I had something like that.”

“And what good would that do?” Keli asked. “Isn’t Liv busy enough without having to deal with your questions? What would you tell her to do that she doesn’t have sense enough to do on her own? Being able to talk over a distance like that would be a mighty nuisance, if you ask me.”

“What about a healing problem?” Jules asked. “Suppose you had a special problem with someone on the crew and didn’t know what to do. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to ask another healer for advice?”

Keli shrugged. “I suppose. Have you ever heard the one about how many people does it take to save a patient?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“It takes two,” Keli said, “one healer, and one big, mean bodyguard to keep any other healers from telling the first healer that they’re doing it all wrong.”

Jules laughed despite the tension inside her. “All right. But suppose one of the survivors on that wreck is badly hurt? Wouldn’t it be nice if Liv could talk to you about what to do?”

Keli shook his head. “I teach everyone on the crew what to do if someone gets hurt. How to stop bleeding and such. Liv and those with her know those things. If one of the survivors is hurt so badly that those measures can’t save them, then it’s doubtful that anything I could do by calling out advice could save them either. There’s only so much a healer can do to treat the ills that befall people.” He paused, his expression growing wistful. “They do say the Mechanics have devices that can save people who wouldn’t have a chance of surviving with what common folk healers know. But they reserve those devices for other Mechanics. And Mages can do anything, supposedly. I wouldn’t mind being able to save those I can’t save with what tools I have and what skills I’ve learned. But the Mechanics won’t share, and who’d dare ask a Mage? If that daughter of your line overthrows the Great Guilds, do you think she’ll force them to share what they know?”

“I hope so,” Jules said, squinting again to see more as distant figures clambered down into the longboat, passing along burdens of some kind. “But that worries me, too.”

“Why is that?”

Jules tapped the revolver at her hip. “Suppose the Emperor could equip his legions with Mechanic weapons like this instead of swords and crossbows? You’ve seen the Mechanic ships, all metal with big weapons mounted on them. What if the Emperor had ships like that? What hope would the commons have to be free of the Emperor’s control? Maybe we’d just be trading one set of overlords for another.”

“I thought the prophecy said your daughter would free the world,” Keli said.

“Yes,” Jules said. “It does.”

“Then there must be a way to do it, even if the Emperor gets his hands on such weapons.” He leaned on the railing, giving out a long sigh. “To you, that Mechanic weapon seems amazing. To me, it’s just another way of tearing holes in a person. We’ve both seen what swords, or a crossbow bolt, can do to a body. None of it’s pretty. All of it’s awful.”

Jules glanced at him. “Why do you help me, Keli? Why are you a pirate? Hurting people is often what we do.”

He shrugged again. “A healer depends for work on people getting hurt, and we’re never short of work no matter where we are. I guess it matters to me why it happens. I don’t want an Emperor, or Mechanics or Mages, telling me what I can and can’t do. Not as long as I’m helping instead of hurting. Out here on the water I have a voice in what happens. I get to vote for who’s to be captain, and on what the ship’ll do next. As to why this ship, well, there was Mak. And now there’s you. I could do worse.”

“I’ll never be half the captain that Mak was,” Jules said, her gaze shifting from the sun dropping steadily lower to where the longboat was still alongside the wreck, bobbing up and down as swells rolled by, sailors in the boat using oars to try to keep the boat from slamming into the side of the wreck.

“Mak thought otherwise,” Keli said, standing straight and shading his eyes with one hand. “Looks like they’re casting off.”

“Finally,” Jules breathed. “Ang! They’re starting back!”

After that what remained was the longboat’s cautious exit from the reefs, as the sun reached the horizon and sank beneath it, the sky dimming through twilight and the countless stars coming into view above. But brilliant as the fields of stars were, they didn’t cast nearly enough light for the longboat to safely navigate. Jules breathed a sigh of relief when the longboat finally cleared the reefs and the sailors aboard drove their oar strokes straight for the Sun Queen.

With darkness falling, lanterns were lit and hung from spars to guide the longboat and illuminate the area when the boat reached the ship.

Liv came up the ladder from the boat first. “There were ten more aboard.”

“Any hurt?” Keli asked.

“Just some bumps and bruises. They were confined below when the masts came down so they didn’t get caught in any of that.” Liv made a face. “We took off their bags with their personal possessions, the ship’s strongbox, and a few slabs of salt. It was too rough to risk taking more.”

“I won’t second guess you on that,” Jules said, though she understood Liv’s disappointment. The full cargo of salt on that wreck would’ve turned a tidy profit for the Sun Queen.

The rescued sailors were coming up the ladder as the crew of the Sun Queen hastened to bring the longboat back aboard. Liv gestured one over to Jules. “Here’s our captain.”

The man stared at Jules as if at a ghost. “She’s alive?”

“Nah,” Liv said. “She’s been dead for years. We just prop her up when we want to impress people.”

“Very funny,” Jules said.

Gathering his wits, the sailor offered a rough salute. “First Officer Daki of Sandurin off the…” He faltered, looking back through the gloom to where the wreck was only a darker smudge in the night. “I was off the Merry Runner.”

“Marta,” Jules called, “get these other survivors down below and give them some food and a spot to hang their hammocks. Daki, I’d like to speak with you.”

Her cabin wasn’t large, so a single lantern sufficed to light it. She glanced at the former first officer of the Merry Runner, seeing the tension in him, the nervous twitches, like those of a dog that had been mistreated for too long. Jules knew that look from her childhood in the legion orphanage, where the guards or the supervisors could single out a boy or girl for any reason or no reason at all and make their life a misery. What had worked for those fellow orphans would probably work with this man. Jules put a hunk of cheese and a biscuit on the table, then filled a mug with a mix of rum and water. She gestured Daki to one seat before taking another.

Daki sat down, hesitated, then took a big bite of the cheese, chewing quickly. Jules waited, saying nothing, watching him calm down as he ate and absorbed the quiet normality of her cabin. The former first officer of the Merry Runner was somewhere in his middle years, that area between young and old that was hard to narrow down, especially in someone whose face had borne many days of sun and wind and salt water spray. He was missing the thumb on his right hand, a long-healed scar where it had been, the result of either an accident or an old fight.

“What happened?” Jules finally asked.

Daki flinched and closed his eyes as if trying to block out the memory. “We were at the loading pier for salt. You know where that is? West of here, where there’s a passage through the reefs. Nothing there, really. Just the desert as far as you can see, and a few storehouses where the salt that Imperial convicts mine inland is brought to wait for a ship. We were loading it, no problems, when they showed up.” He shuddered.

“The Mages told you to take them?”

“Not in words. They just walked aboard. Who’d dare to stop them or question them? And the one who seemed to be in charge pointed out to sea and east.” Daki took a quick drink, breathing heavily before he could speak again. “We put off and headed out, of course. What else could we do?”

“You had a large cargo aboard,” Jules said.

“Yeah, we were mostly loaded. So, we headed east along the coast. If our captain tried to get too far away from the coast those Mages would point him back closer in, so that’s where we stayed.”

“Where’s your captain?”

Daki grimaced. “They took him and three others when they left the wreck they’d made of the Merry. They headed east again, so I guess they want to get back to Imperial lands. Of course they needed some sailors to do the work of getting them there.”

He didn’t look happy at the idea. Jules knew why. If that captain and his three sailors were lucky, the Mages would reach their destination and simply walk away without a word, leaving the sailors destitute but alive. But sometimes Mages got rid of commons when they were no longer needed, killing them with the same lack of concern as someone stepping on an ant in their path. “At least that gave the rest of you a chance,” Jules said.

“We didn’t think so,” Daki said. “The waves will make short work of the Merry where she’s hung up, and then we’d have to try to make it to a shore where food and water are both lacking. I got the others tearing up deck planks and working on a raft even though we all knew it’d probably be wrecked on the rocks before we got far from the Merry. Had to try, though, right? But we thought we were done for until we realized your ship was coming back. Even then…some pirates are pretty awful, you know. But Fran, she said she was sure it was your ship, Captain Jules, and we’d be all right.”

“Fran must be a smart sailor,” Jules said, pouring more water and rum into Daki’s mug. “So, the Mages insisted you sail east and stay close to the coast.”

“Not in words,” Daki said. “Just pointing and those awful dead faces they have. We never knew if—” He paused, wide eyes staring at Jules. “One afternoon two of them Mages walked up to Wil and slit his throat. He hadn’t done anything. They just did it. Maybe they wanted to keep the rest of us jumping to their orders.” He took a long drink. “Then, today, we sighted your ship, and I swear the Mages seemed almost happy, though they didn’t look it. Like they’d been waiting for it. They told the captain to take the helm and ordered the rest of us below decks. We spent a long time like that. I was nearest the ladder up, and finally heard one of the Mages say something about the shore. That voice!”

“They sound pretty awful,” Jules agreed. “No feeling in the voices at all.”

“You’ve heard them? Well, of course you have. Um…the Mage said something and the captain shouted it was death to go closer to shore. But the Mages insisted, I guess. We felt the ship turn and knew we were heading for the rocks.”

He hesitated, looking sidelong at Jules. “Those Mages, it was like they knew you and your ship would be there.”

“It’s not the first time,” Jules said. “Why did the Mages want to go closer to shore?”

“I don’t know and that’s the truth. I had time for a few words with the captain after the ship hit the reef, and he said the Mages just said do it.”

Jules shook her head. “If they wanted me dead, they had me right there. Why turn away at that point?”

“I don’t know! It was clear enough they’d come to kill you,” Daki said. “The captain said once they’d seen you fall they turned away like they didn’t care anymore. And I saw them before they left the Merry. I don’t know Mages, but I know people who’ve been given a job to do and how they act once it’s finished. Like ‘all right, that’s done with, let’s go.’ That’s how those Mages seemed before they left our ship.”

“They think I’m dead?”

“We all thought that,” Daki said. “Our captain said he saw the Mage lightning hit you.”

“It did hit me,” Jules said.

Daki sat staring at her until Jules gave him a dismissive and irritated wave. “It was weak,” she said, having decided on that as an explanation. “Maybe Mages secretly use devices like Mechanics do, and there was something ashore they needed to make a strong spell. But they couldn’t get it because they ran your ship onto a reef, so they made do with what they could. You can join the rest of your crew. Tell them that we’ll put them off in our next port as we would survivors of any wreck.”

“Thank you, Captain. We can do work on this ship to pay for our food and berths.”

Jules nodded. “We’ll take you up on that. Do you have any idea what’s in the ship’s strongbox?”

“Probably very little. We’d just taken on cargo and hadn’t sold it.” The former first officer of the Merry Runner hesitated. “Captain, I think some of us, at least some of us, would be interested in joining your crew.”

“We’ve got a pretty full crew,” Jules said, being sure to sound regretful at the rebuff. “And you’d be signing on to be pirates.”

“I can fight, Captain Jules.” He held up the hand with a missing thumb. “I served on an Imperial galley until I lost this. Couldn’t hold a sword after that. But I learned to use the other hand.”

“Well done,” Jules said. She knew the Imperials could’ve kept Daki in service, trained him to fight left-handed, except for the Imperial rule that all legionaries had to fight with the right hand so there’d be no variations or weaknesses in the shield wall.

“I could’ve still pulled an oar,” Daki said, “but they said that wasn’t good enough.”

“You pulled an oar on an Imperial galley?” Jules asked, surprised. Those on the oars were the lowest level of a galley’s crew, worked hard and expected to fight as backups to the galley’s legionaries. “But you were first officer on your ship?”

Daki shrugged. “After I left Imperial service I worked hard on more than one ship, and I learned what I had to learn. I earned that berth on the Merry,” he added, sounding defensive.

“I’m sure you did,” Jules said, making another, different, inner appraisal of him. Anyone who could work their way up from the oars to first officer had proven a great deal about themselves. And he’d kept his head after the Mages left, keeping the other survivors busy making a raft. “We’ve already got a full crew, but we can probably make room for you, at least.”

Distress flitted across the sailor’s face. “I could not leave the others from the Merry unless I knew they’d be all right. The ship is gone, but the captain would expect me to look after those of the crew who remain.”

Her opinion of the man rose another notch. “I’ll talk to my officers and see what can be done.”

“I understand,” Daki said, pausing once more, his expression working in the light of the single lantern. “Captain, could you tell me, is it true?”

“Is what true?” Jules said. She knew exactly what Daki was asking about, but annoyance at the question warred with her sense of courtesy.

“The prophecy. Is it true?”

“You’ll have to ask that daughter of my line, whenever she shows up,” Jules said. “It’ll be up to her to make it happen.” She waited, tense, to see if Daki would follow up by hitting on her. Daki seemed a decent sort, but she’d been propositioned by enough apparently decent sorts to no longer have any patience with them.

“But you’re the first common to ever stand up to the Great Guilds and not be killed,” Daki said.

“So far,” Jules said, waiting to see what else Daki would say.

He hesitated like a man about to leap across a chasm and looked down at the table between them. “If you are willing…”

One of her hands, beneath the table and unseen by the sailor, slid back to the dagger sheathed at the small of her back.

“I would fight by your side against the Great Guilds,” Daki finished in a rush. “I have family in Sandurin. I must think of them as well, but it would be for my children’s freedom.”

Jules relaxed, nodding, her hand leaving the hilt of the dagger. “I wouldn’t ask anyone to ignore the needs of their family. In all honesty, it may be our great-great-grandchildren or even later before that daughter of my line shows up.” She paused, hearing running feet that warned of trouble even before a rapid double knock on the cabin’s door.

A sailor named Gord stuck his head in. “Cori on lookout is pretty sure she saw a light to the north.”

“On the horizon?” Jules asked. “Has it reappeared?”

“Closer than the horizon. Cori thinks the light went out when they spotted our lights.”

“Blazes. Pass the word to extinguish all lanterns, and take Daki here to his friends from the Merry Runner.”

She paused only long enough to blow out the single lantern in the stern cabin before following Gord and Daki out on deck. Racing up to the quarterdeck, having no trouble with the familiar route in the dark, she found Ang still standing near the helm. “Have you taken any breaks today?”

“I ate dinner,” Ang said. “Have you?”

She hadn’t, so rather than replying Jules looked upward. “Cori! Was the light from an honest lantern, or some of that weird Mechanic light?” Lanterns and candles burned flames that put out a warm, yellowish light which varied in strength. The crew of the Sun Queen had seen Mechanic lights, though, which were much more white, much brighter, and never altered.

“It wasn’t any of that Mechanic light,” Cori called back. “I would’ve seen it sooner if it was.”

“Did you ever see the Mechanics use regular lanterns?” Ang asked Jules.

It was a natural question to ask of her. Jules had been aboard one of the Mechanic ships made of steel, a rare experience for a common. “No. All I saw on their ship were their lights. Too bright to even look at straight on.”

“Would they have lanterns, though? Just in case?”

She shook her head, peering over the night-dark waters. “The last time I met with Mechanics they used some small version of their lights that they could put in a pocket. I think Mechanics refuse to use regular lanterns because that’s what we use. They always have to show off their special light to make it clear they think they’re above us. If Cori saw a regular lantern, that means it’s not one of the Mechanic ships.”

Ang narrowed his eyes toward the north. “Could be a merchant ship, then. Trying to hide for fear that we’re pirates.”

“That’d be smart of them, since we are pirates.” Jules rubbed her neck as she also gazed north. “Or it’s an Imperial ship of war hoping we’re pirates and trying to sneak up on us.”

“If it’s an Imperial galley or sloop, it’s only looking for one pirate,” Ang said. “We both know who she is. And it may have other Imperial warships nearby.”

Jules frowned. “True enough. But we need to take a decent ship. Pickings have been slim lately. I hate to run when there might be a good prize nearby.”

“But we don’t want to be near when the sun rises if that is an Imperial galley.”

“No.”