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For once, I’m not interested in arguing. I’ve been in plenty of fights over the years, and I know how to take care of myself, but this is a different animal entirely. Fighting by yourself is one thing. This crew is a well-oiled machine, and even as fear is a live creature inside me, they move as if directed by a single mind. I know that’s not magic at play, which means it’s Bowen’s leadership.
Apparently I’m not moving fast enough, because his magic wraps around me and hauls me to a small space at his back. I don’t know what it says about me that I find its gentle grip comforting instead of aggravating, but now isn’t the time or place to examine the sensation.
It also isn’t the time to notice how magnificent he looks, his strong hands guiding the helm and the wind blowing his dark hair back from his strong face. He’s wearing another crimson coat, and as much as I hate what that color represents, I can’t deny that it looks stunning on him.
“Stay behind me. I’ll keep you safe.” He doesn’t look at me.
There’s no time to reply. The ship veers in the other direction, tipping so violently that I slam against Bowen’s back. Again, his magic grip surrounds me, carefully keeping me in place.
But I only have eyes for the creature rising out of the waves next to the boat. It’s the most magnificent, terrifying thing I’ve ever seen. Massive and serpentine, but with a face that is both reptilian and strangely catlike. It’s a deep blue color, with a lighter underbelly, similar to a great white shark. The better to blend in while it hunts.
Its roar has me covering my ears with my hands and fighting not to crouch as if that would make a difference in this fight. Movement at the other side of the ship makes me pivot, and a great white noise fills my thoughts as my brain tries to comprehend the sheer size of the thing. Because that’s its tail, whipping violently about, hundreds of yards from its head.
It strikes at the mast, but it doesn’t make contact before hitting an invisible wall. I know that wall. I walked into it the other night. It’s a shield Bowen has constructed with his magic. Sure enough, I feel the tremor that works through him in response to the contact. That took its toll. He’s stronger than I can comprehend, but not even he can keep this ship safe indefinitely against that kind of strength.
“Get the spears!”
In response to Bowen’s command, Miles and Kit appear, along with several crew members I know by sight, if not by name. Each holds a long spear in their hands and has a determined look on their face. No fear there. I barely understand it.
I recognize the spears, though. They’re the same type of spear that Miles tried to impale me with on my first day. I might hate the fucker, but I can’t deny he wields the weapon like he was born to it. He uses his entire body behind the strike, sending the spear hurtling through the air with more strength than I could have anticipated.
It impales the dragon, lodging between its scales. We might as well have stuck a toothpick into a giant. Or at least that’s what I think until it explodes.
The dragon howls in fury and pain, and strikes at the ship a second time. Again, Bowen deflects it.
“I can …” But what can I do? I have several long range spells, like the fire that I used against the cat-sìth. But they require prep, which would be impossible to do with the shipping moving sickeningly beneath my feet. If I try, I’ll end up in the water.
That’s the last place I want to be.
“Stay where you are.”
In another situation, I would disobey just to do it, but I don’t really want to die, so I do what Bowen says. Crew members launch a second, third, and fourth spear—javelin?—at the dragon, earning another round of explosions and a third attack.
This time, Bowen grunts a little when he deflects it.
The next one might get through.
Oh fuck. I don’t know what to do. Bunny had a lot of rules, but only one when it came to dragons. Do not, under any circumstances, fuck with a dragon’s hoard. Most of them are old bastards who can’t stir themselves to eat a pesky witch, but they’ll burn the entire world to the ground to protect and reclaim what’s theirs. But surely that doesn’t apply here? From what Bowen’s said, his orders came only a few days before they found me, which means it’s likely this dragon hasn’t been in Threshold the entire time.
Think, Evelyn. You have a brain for a reason. If most dragons don’t attack unprovoked, then …
Another swipe of its tail shakes the shield around the ship so hard that the deck shifts beneath my feet, derailing my thoughts. “How many more hits can you take?”
I don’t expect Bowen to answer, but he turns his head slightly and mutters, “A couple. I’d have a better chance if I went on the offensive, but I can’t afford to leave the ship defenseless.”
I can’t help there, either. I know a handful of shielding spells, but a good shield doesn’t let anything in—or out. I might be able to keep us safe, but then we wouldn’t be able to attack. Beyond that, my strength is no more bottomless than Bowen’s is. If the dragon keeps attacking, it will get through. End of story.
I hate this.
I don’t want this fight, but I also don’t want to die.
Even as I debate with myself, Kit and a trio of crew members rush to the side of the ship to replace Miles and the other three who just attacked. I can’t see that they’re actually doing any damage, and every time they land a strike, the dragon attacks in kind.
In fact, it didn’t strike our ship until we threw fucking spears at it. Which doesn’t mean it wasn’t going to attack, but we definitely went on the offensive first. Of course we did—the dragon has been eating people, and even if I don’t love the Cwn Annwn, I can admit that that’s probably not a good thing. Probably.
No, damn it. I’m doing it again. Looking for an angle where there is none. We’re fighting for our lives here. There is no angle.
There’s always an angle, little bird. If you haven’t found it, it’s because you’re not looking hard enough.
