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The muscle burns as I lower my arm, spreading fire all the way down to the tips of my fingers. I grit my teeth at the pain and my own folly.
Kalligan has once again predicted what I would do. He couldn’t know exactly where I was standing, so he took his best guess. Maybe he’s not as out of control as I originally thought. He only wanted to give off the appearance of having lost all reason. This was a calculated shot.
Though it’s not lethal, it’s cost me my sword arm and—very likely—the fight.
Part of Kalligan’s endurance tests were making me practice fighting him with my left. I wonder if he’s regretting how well he trained me now.
As I bend down to retrieve my sword with my left hand, Kalligan’s boot comes careening around the corner, colliding with my chin, and sending me flying backward. I lose the dagger, now, too.
My eyes roll back into my head from the force of the kick. The pain is so maddening, I wonder if I were human ifthe kick would have taken my head clean off. My throat is stretched tight from the thick ache, my teeth are still ringing, and the ship wobbles for just a moment before I can collect myself, right my vision.
I make the mistake of attempting to use my injured arm to right myself. The slickness of my blood-drenched hand and the sharp pain lacing through my arm cause me to crumple to the deck.
Kalligan shouts something. I can’t make out the words, but I think they’re orders to his men. The words are much too loud to be meant for me. He’s momentarily forgotten his men can’t hear a thing.
Fortunately, his orders give me a chance to collect myself. I rise. But Kalligan still stands between me and my sword. I reach for my pistol, cock it back. Kalligan recognizes what I’m about to do and throws himself over the helm and off the aftercastle.
I miss the shot. The ball lodges into the deck, and I curse the stars in my vision, the unsteadiness of my left hand. But with him out of the way, I streak for my sword, grasp it firmly.
He waits for me on the main deck. As I jump the steps of the companionway, I spot Kalligan’s pirates climbing onto the deck from over the sides of the ship. Some of them must have finally gotten the sense to haul themselves through the gun ports.
“Mandsy!” I shout when I land. “They’re coming from the sides.”
She turns and spots them, then shouts orders to the rest ofthe crew. Bodies are layered next to the hatches. The men shove through their fallen companions to try and reach my crew. I see one fallen girl, her hair covering her face. It’s Deshel, I think. Radita’s gotten herself caught in a hold by one of the enemy. She brings her heel down hard on his instep before slamming a closed fist into his groin. Sorinda is already at the starboard side of the ship, slicing off the fingers of men trying to get a grip on the railing. Athella’s perched up in the netting, launching herself at men who break through the forces of the girls at the stern hatch.
I see a flash of Riden before I have to return my attention to the pirate king.
Kalligan is bolting toward me again. I can’t continue to let him take the offensive. I won’t kill him that way. My right arm hangs uselessly against my side. I try not to jostle it as I deflect the king’s next blow.
“You’ve already lost this fight,” he says as he sends a volley of slashes at me.
“Not yet.” As I block the next strike, I send my injured arm sailing toward his head, gritting my teeth at the murderous pain. I almost lose consciousness as black spots corner my vision.
It’s worth it. He doesn’t expect it, and I take my chance to fling my own strikes.
Nothing I do is light. With each swing I put forth all the force I have, all the speed I can muster. My arm throbs with agony. My ears are still ringing from the kick to the head I took.
One of my girls cries out. The men are gathering their forces. Superior numbers are encroaching on the deck. I need to finish this fight so I can help them.
Nothing I do gives me the advantage. The slice at my father’s side barely bleeds. He fights as though he feels no pain. We will hammer and hack at each other until one of us collapses from exhaustion or makes a foolish mistake. Since I am the most injured, it will likely be me.
I don’t let the fear of losing have any effect on me. I will see this fight through to the end, no matter the outcome.
Death pours into the air, a stench unique unto itself. I nearly trip over a fallen body, as Kalligan tries to press me back toward the stern of the ship. Shots no longer penetrate the air. Everyone has emptied their pistols. There’s nothing but a stumbling of limbs and swords. Athella no longer sits up in the netting. She’s on the ground trying to even out the odds. An enemy pirate comes up behind her and—
I look away before she goes down. A new urgency and rage fuels my fight with Kalligan.
“Surrender,” he says.
“Getting tired?” I say through a heavy breath.
His chest heaves as well. I know better than to think he wants me to quit because he thinks he’ll lose the fight. He wants to beat me. Both my body and mind. My giving up is as much of a victory for him. But by the way he pounds his sword and swings his fist, I know he wants to take my betrayal right out of my skin.
Surrendering is not an option.
“I’m tired ofyou,” he answers. “Tired of your insolence and your weakness. I’m ready to be rid of you. But I’ll save you for last. You can watch your crew suffer first.”
“I will kill you before you can touch them,” I bite out.
