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“Dead,” she snarled. With the dagger still in her fist, she punched down and back, catching the thing with a meatythunk. It screamed in her ear, a howl of agony that drained into nothing as it faded away.
Two down. Were there five or six? Five had come after her, but it seemed like there had been six on the barge. Or she’d counted one twice.
Not giving herself time to think about it, she threw up the bar and ran out the door, skidding as her boots hit the slick of hunter goo from the one she’d killed at the porthole. “Ugh ugh ugh,” she chanted, catching her balance on the bobbing deck and looking wildly around for Gabriel.
Nothing in sight but the pitching barge—surely it couldn’t be good for them to be crosswise to the waves—the drizzling rain and the gray shoreline not far away. Struggling to stay upright, she clung to the cabin wall with her free hand, working her way stealthily to the attached overhang. Vale, white-eyed and frothing at the mouth, yanked on the rope halter that tethered him loosely to the manger. Blood ran down one flank, a crushed and twitching hunter under his hooves. At least the horse was intact and hadn’t gone overboard.
“Good boy,” she murmured, holding out her hand so he’d catch her familiar scent. He recognized her—or her Ariel magic—and snorted, calming. The hunter looked too mangled to be much trouble, but Nic wasn’t inclined to take chances. Finding a decent-sized chunk, she plunged the dagger into it, observing its transformation to harmless goo with satisfaction. “Three,” she declared.
Rising from her crouch, she stroked Vale’s neck, leaning against him for a moment to steady them both. “Where’s Gabriel, huh?”
Vale snorted an answer in horse, which she naturally didn’t understand. Well, there were only two places Gabriel could be: the other side of the cabin or in the sea. She ducked under Vale’s neck and flattened herself against the wall on the other side of Vale’s manger, trying to move silently, and wondering what she’d do if Gabriel had been killed or drowned. She’d still belong to House Phel, but—so far as anyone knew—Gabriel had no heirs. Very likely the Convocation would deregister the house again and reassign her to another wizard—and she’d no longer have the right of summary dismissal. Her child would be taken away from her to become a ward of the Convocation. Not a pleasant prospect for either of them.
She’d reached the corner of the cabin, afraid to look. If Gabriel was dead or lost, she could maybe swim to shore. Casting a look in that direction, she mentally amended that idea. Instead of swimming, she could wait for the barge to break up on the rocks and hope to survive. Though, if Gabriel was dead or lost, she would be at the mercy of the hunters, who could overpower her.
Also, she didn’t want him dead. Blame her stupid, sentimental heart for that.
Moving slowly, she peeked around the corner of the cabin—and clamped her lips on the gasp that wanted to escape. Gabriel stood like a statue, a furious giant compared to the two smaller hunters slinking around him as they swathed him in rope, tying him to a post used for anchoring crates. A third stood before him, black lips curled back from its fangs.
“Lord Phel, you have made a grave misstake interfering with uss. I told you back in Elal that there would be conssequenssess if you perssissted. You sshould have gone home.”
“The familiar is mine,” Gabriel ground out, struggling against more than the rope. Something held him in place, a magical compulsion of some sort. “You have no rights to Lady Veronica. She is mine by Convocation law.”
“If sso, the Convocation will return your property to you. We will take cusstody of her now. My companionss will bring her out and we’ll be gone. I ssuggesst you do not follow uss.”
Gabriel’s jaws clenched, his shoulder, chest, and arm muscles flexing, but he didn’t budge. “Release me!” he roared.
The hunter’s jaw dropped into a mockery of a grin. “I don’t think sso, Lord Phel.” It flicked its gaze to the quiet cabin, snapping its jaws closed. “Get the familiar,” it told its minions. Both slunk toward the cabin.
A golden opportunity. With a scream of rage, Nic raced toward the hunter leader, dagger at the ready. Both hunter and wizard gaped at her in identical shock. Gabriel recovered faster. “Nic, no!” he yelled.
“Use your magic, you idiot!” she screamed. She flung herself at the hunter, hoping to get a lucky strike in. This one was smarter than most, deftly grappling her, its sinuous limbs stronger than they seemed. Magically enhanced, no doubt. She disregarded its intimidating teeth and claws, counting on the fact that the hunters had instructions to bring her back unharmed. She managed a shallow slice with the knife—and it screamed in pain—but the strike wasn’t enough to dissolve it.
Worse, it now knew to disarm her. Its clawed fingers wrapped around her knife hand as it threw its shoulder into her breast, shockingly painful on the tender tissue, and stretched her arm out. Her shoulder and elbow ligaments shrieked at the overextension, and it felt like her wrist bones were fragmenting under the crushing grip.
The hunter sank sharp teeth into her forearm, and she dropped the blade.
A wave of water doused them both, and they went skidding across the tilting barge deck. “Nic, hold on!” Gabriel shouted.
Easier said than done. She scrabbled for purchase, digging her fingers into a lucky gap between planks—ignoring the bite of splinters. Blinking salt water out of her stinging eyes, she glimpsed the hunter not far away, all four sets of claws dug into the wooden deck, jaws open in a feral snarl, black tongue hanging between multiple rows of fangs. A wave of water rose behind it, curling unnaturally as it built—and then slammed down on the hunter, dragging it toward the edge.
It fought, its formidable claws raking furrows in the deck. Nic struggled to her hands and knees. Glimpsed the hunters galloping on all fours for Gabriel. “Behind you!” she screamed, crawling up toward him.
He tried to pivot, curse him for a fool, muscles straining against the ropes as he tried to lift the sword hanging limply by his side. “Usemagic!” she yelled at him, lunging to wrap one hand around his booted ankle, holding on for dear life. “Hotwater!” she added, and he focused his wizard-black eyes on the hunter nearly upon them.
A wave leapt from the sea, billowing with steam—and engulfed the hunter. It yelped, spasmed, and went still. Its fellow tried to dodge, but the boiling water, coiling like a living thing, curled and pounced. The hunter howled and thrashed, then went limp, leaving the nauseating scent of cooked meat in the air.
The lead hunter had regained its feet, stalking toward them, holding up its clawed hands in surrender. “Lord Phel,” it crooned. “I wass perhapss hassty. Let uss—” The bubble of water narrowed to a lance and shot straight through the center of its chest. It swayed, astonished, the sea visible through the hole in its lean body. Then it collapsed in a heap.
“The dagger,” Gabriel said. “Before they heal.”
Nic let go of his ankle and looked around wildly, not seeing it anywhere. “I think it went overboard.”
“Then they will, too. I can move again. Cut me loose.”
“I can shove a body overboard. You concentrate on keeping us off those rocks.” Nic pointed at the perilously looming crags.
Gabriel’s head whipped around, and he cursed viciously. The barge shuddered as the sea grabbed it, as if giant hands had taken ahold of the vessel. Spray fountained around them at the sudden resistance. Nic staggered to the lead hunter, intent on getting him and whatever spell he’d used to immobilize Gabriel into the water. Already the tissue was knitting around the edges of the gaping hole in its chest. If it could heal from that, it likely couldn’t drown—but it also wouldn’t be in any shape to swim or chase after them anytime soon. With any luck, something would eat it while it was disabled.
