Though she couldn’t see the warship, lookouts in her rigging could evidently see Flothrindel ’s mast above the fog, and were relaying bearings to the deck. Then she heard the order.
“Starboard battery and archers, ready!”
Camilla lashed at the sea with the demon’s rage. A wave surged up from nowhere to pound against the warship’s hull, just as she heard the voice shout, “Fire all!”
With a sound like ripping cloth, she felt the breeze of a hail of arrows and ballista bolts tearing through the fog overhead. Her wave had ruined their aim, but a few arrows thunked solidly into the wooden boat. Camilla jerked as something slammed into her side, snapping her concentration. Immediately, the boat began to slow.
“Miss Cammy!” Paska reached forward to help her, but Camilla waved her back.
“Stay quiet and steer the boat!” she hissed. Camilla looked down. An arrow stood out from her side, just under her arm. Her vision swam as shock and pain washed over her. I can’t faint ! she thought in a panic. They’ll catch us and hang us !
Bloodcurdling demonic laughter welled up in her mind. The pain vanished, and her head cleared. She reached down and jerked the arrow free, the stench of her own vile blood acrid in her nostrils as she cast the shaft overboard. She concentrated and Flothrindel surged forward again.
“How did you—”
“Quiet!” she hissed, glaring down at Tipos. The sudden desire to rip his throat out and feast on his blood surged up in her, but she beat it down. “They’re aiming by sound!”
Another bellow of “Fire all!” rang out, but they had misjudged Flothrindel ’s speed, and all but one arrow splashed harmlessly in their wake. Camilla could hear sounds of pursuit, shouts and splashes as the warship’s longboats were launched, then the piercing three-note bleat of a horn. She cursed the sea until they flew forward at breakneck speed.
“I can’t see to steer!” Paska whispered urgently. “Dis bloody fog too t’ick!”
“You’re doing fine, Paska.” Camilla could feel the gap in the mangroves ahead through the water. “Just come to port a bit. We’ll be out of the fog in just a moment.”
“How you doin’ dis?” Paska asked.
“I’ll tell you later!” Camilla snapped, clapping down on another surge of hunger. “Right now we have to get out of here alive, so if you don’t mind, steer left.”
Paska complied, and the smack surged through the gap in the mangroves. They were in the channel. The fog thinned, then cleared entirely. She could still hear shouts and alarms from far behind, but for now they were safe. Paska steered silently through the towering mangroves.
“Nobody behind us yet,” Tipos said, exchanging another worried glance with Paska. “We gonna find quite a welcome outside de cut, though, wit’ all dem alarm horns an’ such.”
“They won’t see us with the fog,” Camilla assured her companions.
“What fog?” Paska asked.
The exit of the mangrove channel loomed before them, starlight glittering on the lagoon in an ironically beautiful display, considering what she had just done. A light breeze fluttered Flothrindel ’s high pennant; with any luck, they would have enough wind to sail by the time they reached the outer reef. As they emerged, Camilla concentrated again, and a thick mist formed just beyond the outer reef, shrouding the armada in a ghostly veil.
“That fog,” she said. But the alarm horns had done their job; before the fog thickened, she saw lights bobbing along the decks of the ships. Ignoring Tipos and Paska’s muttered whispers, Camilla focused her waning energy. With every effort, her hunger grew stronger and harder to suppress. “Set the sails, Tipos,” she ordered. It would be easier if she didn’t have to propel the boat.
Canvas cracked and filled as he hauled on halyards and Paska managed the sheets. Tipos returned to the cockpit and trimmed the sails, and Camilla eased her effort. They slowed, but they
“Starboard battery and archers, ready!”
Camilla lashed at the sea with the demon’s rage. A wave surged up from nowhere to pound against the warship’s hull, just as she heard the voice shout, “Fire all!”
With a sound like ripping cloth, she felt the breeze of a hail of arrows and ballista bolts tearing through the fog overhead. Her wave had ruined their aim, but a few arrows thunked solidly into the wooden boat. Camilla jerked as something slammed into her side, snapping her concentration. Immediately, the boat began to slow.
“Miss Cammy!” Paska reached forward to help her, but Camilla waved her back.
“Stay quiet and steer the boat!” she hissed. Camilla looked down. An arrow stood out from her side, just under her arm. Her vision swam as shock and pain washed over her. I can’t faint ! she thought in a panic. They’ll catch us and hang us !
Bloodcurdling demonic laughter welled up in her mind. The pain vanished, and her head cleared. She reached down and jerked the arrow free, the stench of her own vile blood acrid in her nostrils as she cast the shaft overboard. She concentrated and Flothrindel surged forward again.
“How did you—”
“Quiet!” she hissed, glaring down at Tipos. The sudden desire to rip his throat out and feast on his blood surged up in her, but she beat it down. “They’re aiming by sound!”
Another bellow of “Fire all!” rang out, but they had misjudged Flothrindel ’s speed, and all but one arrow splashed harmlessly in their wake. Camilla could hear sounds of pursuit, shouts and splashes as the warship’s longboats were launched, then the piercing three-note bleat of a horn. She cursed the sea until they flew forward at breakneck speed.
“I can’t see to steer!” Paska whispered urgently. “Dis bloody fog too t’ick!”
“You’re doing fine, Paska.” Camilla could feel the gap in the mangroves ahead through the water. “Just come to port a bit. We’ll be out of the fog in just a moment.”
“How you doin’ dis?” Paska asked.
“I’ll tell you later!” Camilla snapped, clapping down on another surge of hunger. “Right now we have to get out of here alive, so if you don’t mind, steer left.”
Paska complied, and the smack surged through the gap in the mangroves. They were in the channel. The fog thinned, then cleared entirely. She could still hear shouts and alarms from far behind, but for now they were safe. Paska steered silently through the towering mangroves.
“Nobody behind us yet,” Tipos said, exchanging another worried glance with Paska. “We gonna find quite a welcome outside de cut, though, wit’ all dem alarm horns an’ such.”
“They won’t see us with the fog,” Camilla assured her companions.
“What fog?” Paska asked.
The exit of the mangrove channel loomed before them, starlight glittering on the lagoon in an ironically beautiful display, considering what she had just done. A light breeze fluttered Flothrindel ’s high pennant; with any luck, they would have enough wind to sail by the time they reached the outer reef. As they emerged, Camilla concentrated again, and a thick mist formed just beyond the outer reef, shrouding the armada in a ghostly veil.
“That fog,” she said. But the alarm horns had done their job; before the fog thickened, she saw lights bobbing along the decks of the ships. Ignoring Tipos and Paska’s muttered whispers, Camilla focused her waning energy. With every effort, her hunger grew stronger and harder to suppress. “Set the sails, Tipos,” she ordered. It would be easier if she didn’t have to propel the boat.
Canvas cracked and filled as he hauled on halyards and Paska managed the sheets. Tipos returned to the cockpit and trimmed the sails, and Camilla eased her effort. They slowed, but they
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