Chương 19: Chapter 18

A storm overtook the Surly Serpent the next day, rocking the heavy vessel as furious waves battered it and howling winds snapped at its masts. Peals of thunder shook people to the bone and the constant lightning provided the only natural light. Heavy rain beat against the ship incessantly, drowning out the shouts of the crew as they coordinated to keep the ship afloat and get her out of the storm.

Shaya and Quill sat in their cabin, bracing against the walls to stop themselves from tumbling whenever the ship plunged into another wave. They were confined to quarters, like all of the other passengers, to ensure no one got in the crew's way. Great day to cover up some roguish activity. If we survive this, somehow. Shaya kept her ear pressed against her neighbour's wall, trying to listen for anything out of the ordinary.

After hours of listening to no avail, her keen ears finally perked up at the sounds of conversation. She couldn't pick out the words, but the tone shifted into something more staccato. They're definitely up to something. Shaya climbed to her feet with the help of the walls, leaning against them until her sea legs adjusted to the ship's unpredictable movements. She grabbed her scabbarded broadsword and wondered if she should strap it onto her belt, but decided against it.

The two men seemed like opportunists, but nothing dangerous. Especially given that at least one of them was heaving their guts out the porthole a few times a day. Thunder boomed, but Shaya caught the sound of squeaking and her eyes shot towards her cabin door. The handle was turning. Adrenaline flowed into her and time seemed to slow as thoughts fired through her brain. Could it be one of the crew checking on the passengers? Just a coincidence they didn't start turning the handle until thunder rolled over us?

Then Krebo's words rung in her mind: A mage is most vulnerable when they're not prepared. Don't take chances.

"Phaedra Amon!" she invoked, drawing in aether on reflex. The door opened and a dark-haired man in a silk gambeson burst through it a second later, two daggers carved from bone in his hands. He was mid-lunge, the daggers thrust upward from his fists, when his eyes widened as the angelic esper appeared, slowing his attack just enough for Shaya to draw her sword across her body and parry one stabbing dagger with it.

With no room to manoeuvre in the cramped quarters, she caught the other dagger with her wooden scabbard, the weapon's edge digging deeply into it despite being made of bone. Monster bone, these men aren't thieves at all. Before her attacker could recover and bring his weapons back inside to guard, she smashed her forehead into his nose. He managed to roll his head enough that the nose didn't shatter, but he still staggered back in pain while taking defensive swipes to discourage her from following.

That was the space she needed.

"Gird my form against harm!" She began sculpting the quick version of her spell. The killer realized his mistake too late, but couldn't lunge back into the small cabin with Shaya's sword pointed at the narrow entry and Quill's sharp beak a threat to his ankles. He swiped at her, trying to catch her sword with his daggers to push it out of his way and safely close the gap. The man tested her skill, having listened to at least a few of her tales of monster hunting and unsure of her actual abilities.

Shaya was lucky the man was cautious. His skill with the daggers was incredible even when fighting conservatively, his attacks a blur, and it was all she could do to keep him from advancing despite the advantages stacked in her favour. She focused on her defensive manoeuvres while sculpting the spell as fast as she could, but dividing her attention made her worse at both activities.

Shaya was forced to accept shallow cuts along her arms, the rocking of the boat throwing her off balance more than her opponent and letting him get those strikes in without reprisal.

"She was ready!" the killer shouted back into the corridor. It was a cold, indifferent report—Shaya didn't hear a note of fear in his words.

"I may be delayed!" Confident bastard. He was done toying with her. With a deft manoeuvre, he trapped her sword with both daggers and used the opportunity to step back into the cabin and into her reach. One dagger kept the sword off to the side while the other slashed up towards her throat in a swift killing blow. This was where she lost to Lorral time and time again, unable to manoeuvre the sword to do what she needed. Do or die time. Practice is over.

As the man stepped towards her, Shaya stepped in towards him as well, dropping the sword rather than contest his control over it given its limited use in these tight quarters. His killing blow failed to land, skidding off the hard light armour that weaved about her mid-stroke. Committing to this in advance, both of Shaya's hands went for his other dagger, grabbing the wrist and twisting it until she could disarm the dagger for her own use.

He switched his grip on his remaining weapon, then drove it down towards the sizable gap in her basic armour, but her protected forearm was already moving to intercept it. She deflected the blow away from her and kicked him between the legs in the same motion. The killer squealed in pain and surprise, stumbling back out of the cabin once again. But not before Quill took a bite out of the back of his leg, below where his silk gambeson offered him any protection.

The gryphlet's immature beak still carried more weight behind it than any normal bird, and blood flowed as the bite ripped a chunk of flesh from the man. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Good gryphon!" Shaya shouted to her companion as she followed the killer into the dim hallway, where her feline eyes might give her an advantage.

"Now stay here where it's safe!" She tried to disarm her attacker's final knife, using her stolen weapon to slash at that wrist and arm. His silk gambeson absorbed the cuts without issue, preventing the damage she wanted to cause. She had to end this before he could recover, and she'd have to go around the gambeson's protection to do so. The unpredictable rocking of the boat made it difficult to land her attacks with the precision or force she'd want.

Before he could recover his senses, she grabbed the wrist holding the last dagger and tried to slash at his face. He managed to get his free arm in the way, but she slashed open his hand as he tried to grab her dagger in return. He kicked at her as well, but she pressed him against the wall to prevent the kicks from doing anything but leave bruises. I might survive this just yet.

I have this one down, I need to think of my next step before— Movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention, and there was the other killer rushing down the narrow hallway toward her. The other "merchant" was now dressed in a silk gambeson and wielding similar-looking daggers. Behind him she spotted one of the crew on the floor, blood oozing from a wound in his chest, his truncheon never drawn from his belt.

"Assassins!" she bellowed, hoping her voice would carry over the rain and thunder. At the end of the hallway, she saw one of the duellists poke their head out, then quickly scurry up the stairs to the crew quarters. The young man looked pale and close to retching as he passed by the murdered crew member by the stairs. His brother looked out into the hallway a moment later, but then ducked back inside and closed the door. I don't blame you. I've never killed a human before either, but…

In a last-ditch attempt to kill the man she had pinned, she cocked back her knife hand and then stabbed it into his gut with all of her power. The gambeson tore beneath the force of her blow, the dagger punching through its layers with great effort. The man's eyes went wide and he gasped for breath. Shaya pulled back and pushed her first attacker towards his charging comrade, foiling the incoming lunge. She stepped towards them, stabbing at the fresh attacker's face with the faint hope of ending this quickly.

He managed to deflect his friend to the side and still twitch his head away from her stab, but she at least managed to leave a bleeding line across his cheek.

"Phaedra, shield me!" she shouted, pulling back into a defensive stance as she sculpted her next spell.

"Two can play at that game, wretch!" the new one sneered at her. Then he hissed something in a language she didn't understand—that didn't even sound human. Rather than summon an esper as she expected, something within him changed. His flesh rippled as ethereal fish scales appeared across his skin and his sneer gained a new row of ripping teeth in front of his human ones.

The whites of his eyes flooded with dark blue energy and, without further invocation or even a gesture, he spat an icicle at her from his distended mouth. Shaya ducked the projectile, but it served to distract her. She was off-balance as the monstrous human charged at her, his daggers biting into the exposed flesh on her hands, upper arms, and legs. Each cut left the area feeling numb and she watched as the attacker's bone daggers grew red with her blood—and grew longer as her blood froze around it.

Throne, I was barely a match for the first one, but this one is even more skilled—and possesses gods know what abilities. Wounded as she already was, she was forced onto the defensive, weaving her spell in desperation. Her first attacker stood up behind her and she was crestfallen to see his hand come away from his abdomen without any blood on it—she hadn't even managed to fell the first one. A deep cut to her thigh sent her reeling backward and something dark surged up from within her. Not now.

Shaya felt her spell slipping away from her, finding it difficult to concentrate on it through the rage and the pain while also staying alive against her new attacker. Whatever magic coursed through their flesh made them stronger, able to directly block and parry her blows despite her size advantage. Not like this, I was so damn close! A roar from the other end of the hallway gave her hope. Enough hope to cling to her Amber and complete the spell.

Motes of light shot from Phaedra and weaved a large shield over Shaya's arm. The simple pavise let her block the next pair of attacks, forcing her attacker to step back and reconsider. He was fast, but the narrow corridor let her keep the shield between them with little effort. And Kredig was rushing towards them, nostrils flaring and fire swimming in his infernal eyes.

His face showed barely restrained rage and he had white-knuckled grips on a heavy knife made for chopping through rope and a plain hammer intended for nails.

"Trade with me," the monster said, his flesh rippling again as more scales appeared on him, "and this time, don't fail me, my apprentice." The two killers rotated in the hallway, and Shaya was left facing the first man from earlier. He eyed her warily, a new form of malice his eyes. The two of them squared off for only a moment before hostilities resumed. The enemy mage spat an icicle at the captain, who deflected it with his knife without slowing.

Then he was upon the enemy, knife and hammer attacking in well-drilled unison and putting the trained killer on the back foot. Kredig's size and strength—and lack of wounds—meant the mage treated his every attack like it could end his life, fighting against him with far more caution than he displayed against Shaya. But the mage recovered quickly, able to give ground to Kredig and then riposte with shallow cuts with his ever-lengthening daggers.

Frost spider-webbed across the demon-blooded nephilim's flesh wherever the enchanted daggers bit into him, slowing his movements and giving more and more momentum back to his adversary. Shaya tried to press her attacker, but while the shield offered her excellent protection it also limited her angles of attack, making her too predictable. The man went on the offensive, shoving back against her light-forged shield with his free hand, but his injured leg meant he only pushed her a foot or two at a time.

He lashed out at her exposed weapon arm whenever she attacked with it, dissuading her from doing so. But she was losing too much blood, and the enemy was landing deeper and deeper cuts on Kredig by the second. Think fast, Shaya! Something dark continued to boil up in her blood, threatening to overtake her. She fought it as much as the man in front of her, cursing her demonic blood with every thought. But Kredig succumbed to his blood rage first, deafening everyone with an ear-piercing roar.

His tunic stretched and ripped as his muscles bulged, and he moved again as if unhindered by pain or creeping cold. Bloody spittle flew from his mouth as he roared again, and Shaya saw both killers flinch. The Surly's captain launched into a reckless offensive, pressuring his would-be killer with Titan-felling swings of his hammer and knife. But he left himself open as he did so, and the enemy was quick on their feet, reacting and adapting to the change of tempo.

More gashes opened on Kredig and blood flowed freely through his clothes and down his limbs. Splinters flew through the air as Kredig's weapons took chunks out of the walls, his blood rage consuming him and leaving him unable to think clearly. The enemy's daggers were now full short swords of gleaming blood, giving him the reach needed to back away from the predictable, berserk attacks while still countering. Ground he could give because of the ground Shaya was giving to her own opponent as he shoved her back.

I need to do something before Kredig loses any more blood. The rage is letting him push past it right now, but…