The Spirit War(145)

“No,” Josef said, pointing out to sea. “That’s the miracle.”

The sailors’ eyes followed his gesture. A few hundred feet away, the Empress’s fleet had ground to a halt. Several of the palace ships were dropping lifeboats as men jumped from the sinking ship, and the whole fleet seemed to be turning in on itself. In toward its own, and away from Osera.

“And that’s how one runner fleet stops the Empress,” Josef said, leaning on the Heart as Nico helped him to his feet. “And the longer they stay like that, the closer we get to low tide and the real miracle. Now, bring us around. Those ships may be stopped, but they’ve still got their bows, and we’ve more palaces to sink.”

The captain blinked, eyes wide. “Aye, my king.”

Josef just nodded and pushed off Nico to resume his position on the prow as the runner turned to join the others already darting between the stopped fleet.

Den the Warlord hung over the railing of the palace ship, watching with an enormous grin as the ship ahead of his begin to sink. Beside him, the captain was throwing a full-on fit.

“We cannot lose a palace ship before we’ve even reached land!” the man was screaming. “Get the wizards on deck and take out those blasted fishing boats!”

There was more, but Den ignored it. He was watching the man standing on the prow of the fastest boat, the man who had just sliced open a palace ship. Den breathed deep, savoring the anticipation. Now there was the kind of opponent he’d been waiting for, but how best to go about it? A duel on boats would be no fun. No real footing, not for the kind of power he’d be throwing around. Maybe he could spoil the man’s ship and send him running to shore?

Den was still thinking over his options when he felt something brush against his spirit. He froze, taking in the feel of it. It was a wizard’s will, a familiar one. He focused on the pressure, trying to place it, and found himself facing the shore. Den leaned out over the railing. A man was standing on the beach. This far, his face wasn’t clear, but Den didn’t need to see his face. That stance was unmistakable.

Pure joy flooded through him. He’d thought he was lucky to find the swordsman, but here was a fight Den had been waiting on for decades. He glanced back at the Oseran boats. They were coming around again, the swordsman riding the prow of the flagship with his sword out. Shaking his head, Den turned away. The swordsman could wait. If he was good enough to split a palace ship, then these idiots wouldn’t be able to touch him. He’d still be around later. Meanwhile, he was going to deal with some unfinished business.

Den turned to the panicking captain and grabbed him by the shoulder, lifting him clear off the deck and holding him there until he was sure he had the man’s undivided attention.

“I need a boat.”

The captain’s face went pale with terror. “The Empress said—”

“The Empress and I have a deal.” Den tightened his grip. “I get to kill whomever I want. Now give me a boat.”

“Fine!” the captain cried. “Just put me down!”

Den dropped him, and the captain collapsed in a heap. His officers rushed forward, but the captain waved them away. “Give the Empress’s champion a boat,” he gasped, clutching his shoulder. “Let him do as he likes.”

The officers looked at Den, and then one ran off toward the lifeboats. Den nodded to the captain and turned to follow. He stepped into the boat and sat down, waiting impatiently as a crew lowered him down the long drop from the deck to the sea. The moment he hit the water, Den opened his spirit.

“Take me to the shore,” he said, stomping on the boards.

The boat gave a terrified creak and obeyed, shooting across the water as fast as it could go.

“Sire!” one of Josef’s rowers shouted. “There’s a boat headed for the shore!”

Josef looked over his shoulder. They were circling to avoid the arrows, waiting for their chance to strike the next palace ship. Now was the perfect moment for the enemy to counter.

“I’d hoped we’d have a bit longer,” he said. “How big a boat?”

The captain grabbed the glass from his neck and peered through it. “Looks like a lifeboat, sire. I see one man.”

Josef held out his hand and the captain handed the glass over. Sure enough, a rowboat with one occupant was rushing toward the shore faster than their runners. Josef scowled. The sailor looked normal enough. Huge, certainly, and a fighter, but he didn’t seem to have a weapon. The man’s face was in profile, but he looked familiar, somehow. Josef was trying to place him when he heard Nico suck in a breath.