Our pursuit caused a stir among the crew, a stir that I quickly turned into preparations for battle. There were three ships behind us and at least one on either side, hidden by landmass. It looked like the three behind were supposed to be the anvil on which we’d be crushed: the Emerald being the slowest and least maneuverable of them but utterly invincible to whatever the Death’s Consort could throw at her.

The Athair and the Spirit of Retribution were the other two warships trailing us. They were not the behemoths the Emerald was, but they were no doubt faster and capable of outperforming my carrack.

The two ships flanking us were likely the fastest ships that they thought could delay the Consort long enough for the bigger ones to deal with me. At least I hoped they were, my only chance seemed to be keeping my distance and dealing with one or both of the flanking ships before making it to waters where my submersible advantage could truly come into play.

I shouted orders to Burdette to take the helm and chart our course for best speed through the reefs. I could hope that the Emerald’s draft would be too much to navigate these waters, forcing them to act as a rearguard rather than inexorably pursuing like a necromancers’ undead hound.

The Athair and Spirit of Retribution … well, let’s hope they couldn’t keep up.

We put out every inch of sail we had to harness the wind, in addition to the headway we were making from the ship pulling ambient mana from the surroundings to propel us. If I’d been able to improve this ship, I could have put some XP in her speed and improved that bonus. Alas, ‘twas not to be …

“Phillip, get the fighters outfitted and ready to repel boarders. Then have someone dispense weapons to the others.” We’d compiled a list based off those who weren’t combat oriented enough to make our registry of fighters, but who had some skill or ability that meant they weren’t useless. Every one of these people had a weapon placed in their hands when it came time to defend ourselves.

Minus the hands that had deserted or died, we had just over 270 crew on board. The ship could sail with a fraction of that, it was only my demand that they all be competent sailors that had everyone working. The ‘many hands make light work’ mantra was the only reason I could think of that morale wasn’t even worse, though finding room for everyone became a question.

80 fighters I trusted to hold their own: plus another 60 or so who knew how to hold a weapon or shoot a bow. There were 140 people gearing up to overwhelm anyone who attempted to board us. That should be enough to deal with whatever boarding party the warships could throw at us, assuming there wasn’t a drastic level disparity.

Of course, that was before they riddled us with artillery. Who could say if they’d even attempt a boarding?

“You know, it’s funny how life tends to repeat itself.”

I froze, nearly losing my grip on the rigging for the first time in years. I knew that voice in my head: my master – my captor – was keeping tabs on me.

“Why are you here now?” I asked.

As usual, Jones didn’t respond to me. I still didn’t know how much he could tell about what I was doing; could he tell exactly what kind of a bind I was in? I finished climbing down the rigging and made my way to the artillery deck, where Sadeo was calmly telling his team leaders what to do while runners he’d dispatched returned with the most volatile munitions we had. I approved.

“When I took your heart,” Jones said again. “I took it as a trophy – I wanted to hear its song as a reminder of what has been. It was just a memento …”

His ‘memento’ had a lot of bearing on me! If it meant so little I’d take it back.

“I never imagined that I would have to struggle with it as often as you’ve made me. You’ve a strong attachment, Seaborn.”

Surprised, I let that tidbit sink in while I watched ballistae be cocked and loaded. So it wasn’t all easy for Davy Jones, he was having a struggle with my heart, whatever that meant. I waited, but Jones didn’t elaborate any more.

“Domenic?” Sadeo asked. “What do ya need?”

“It looks like you’ve got things well in hand,” I said to my master artillerist. “Don’t hold back on the good stuff. It’s going to be hard to get away from these ships.”

“We don’t want to take the fight to them?” Sadeo asked hopefully. The furry short creature was constantly looking for grand battles to participate in.

“I don’t see any reason to fight at a disadvantage. Let us sail to waters where we can shoot at them from below and then I’ll consider 5 to 1 odds.”

Sadeo nodded, though he still seemed disappointed.

The ship’s carpenter Abner found me then, giving his report on the damage from striking the reef earlier. Several boards had been broken in, but there was no flooding. I could control whether water entered my ship when I rose or submerged, and that extended to keeping the hull from flooding. It was a nice reminder that attacking from beneath the waves wasn’t my only trick.

I went topside and my spirits sank a bit at the distance the Spirit of Retribution had closed. The Athair was just behind her, and the indicators for my crewmen told me that the flanking ships were pulling ahead, and would cut us off before we could get into deeper waters.

It was all I could do not to pull out my book on naval strategy and hunt for a solution. For better or worse, the book dealt almost exclusively with armadas that wanted to destroy each other, and so the tactics were about maneuvering, positioning, and what ships to sacrifice in order to gain an advantage. In our situation, I intended to flee if given the chance, which would also change how my pursuit would try and corner me. I might as well chuck the book on strategy overboard – it hadn’t even unlocked the strategist skill for me.

I grabbed my charts and looked over them while I calculated the speed of each vessel. We were on a northerly course, but a string of islands lay ahead of us like knots in a sounding line. My chart only listed the space between them as ‘dangerous waters’. We might be able to make a crossing there, but if we could some of our pursuers could, and that would play into their hands. I wanted to dive as soon as possible.

To do that I’d need to turn east or west when we approached those islands. Preferably east, as that led to deeper waters and hence more room for us. The trouble was that those routes were being closed off. Assuming the flanking vessels continued with best possible speed, they’d be able to position themselves to both the east and west.

“We’ll have to fight at least one,” Burdette said from over my shoulder as he followed the notations I was making.

“Two,” I muttered. “Best case scenario. The Spirit of Retribution will catch up to us without a doubt if we try to run for it – honestly I don’t know why the Athair hasn’t closed in more too.”

“We just need to make it to deeper water,” he pointed out.

“Maybe,” I said. “Make deeper water and they’ll lose their ability to pinpoint us tonight.” Unspoken was the reason they’d lose that ability – my deserting crewmen would be dead. Or free, unlikely as I believed their chances. “The trouble is, if we head west we’ll be running into reefs again,” I said, as I pointed out the disparate depths. “And likely as not be forced to surface. If we head east, the ships behind us will catch up before we make it far enough to dive out of range. We’d be facing the eastern flanking ship and the Spirit of Retribution at least, likely the Athair as well.”

“So you want to go west and try to deal with just the western flanking ship, taking our chances with fighting the others later?”

“No. I truly believe we’d be crushed in a fair fight. But I want to make our pursuers think I’ve gone that way.” I pointed to the waters along the western path – we should be able to dive out of sight just before reaching the western flanking vessel.

Burdette keyed in on what I was saying and pointed out the obvious flaw. “Misdirection won’t work when they can point to us. The ships following will know if we try and let them pass above us.”

“We don’t need to fool them so completely, we just need them to follow our steering to the west long enough that when we double back to the east, they’ll be too far out of position to stop us. They’ll be able to catch up to us with their speed, but it should give us enough space to make it to deep water.” I dragged my finger along the chart to indicate my plan, then gestured to my speed calculations.

“That means we’ll be doubling back straight into the eastern flanking vessel.”

“If we have to fight at least two, better to fight the faster but weaker flanking vessels than either of the warships behind us.”

“You’re assuming that the flanking vessels are weaker.”

My hand paused with the compass on the chart. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

He shrugged his thick shoulders, making his bulldog neck disappear for a moment. “Suppose some assumptions are needed.”

“I want you ready to take the helm,” I said. “I want to be on it to best gauge when I need to dive and surface, but I’m also the best choice to counter some of the things any mages might throw at us.”

“You’re the only choice for that,” Burdette said dryly. “You should really get a few real mages on board.”

I bristled at how he said ‘real mages’ but tried not to let my irritation show. “Yes, I’ll just pop into the next port and set up a recruiting booth for a week!” Ok, quest failed; my irritation showed.

“If you could teach me the trick of diving the ship,” Burdette said, ignoring my remark, “You wouldn’t have to man the helm. I could even stand watches to avoid anything like the reef incident earlier.”

“It’s tied to my profession,” I said. “Ships still aren’t designed to do anything of the sort – it’s a professional ability.”

He nodded in resignation. “And … no chance you’ll ever offer me that profession?”

I looked at him carefully. Make Burdette a Captain of the Deep? I wouldn’t even if I could. The man knew his business, sure, and maybe even had the heartless attitude Jones was trying to instill in me – but I was sure he was motivated by greed. He’d take the skill levels I offered in lieu of gold, but I figured he was a man set on owning one of these islands with every luxury imported to him for his enjoyment. If a man like that was all it took to acquire the profession, Jones would have had an unbeatable armada long ago.

Burdette read my eyes. “Figured as much,” he grumbled. “I’ll stand by to take the helm.”

“Oh,” I said under my breath as he left. “If only I could have a crew of people I trust!”

“Trust is a door that leads to betrayal,” Jones said, making me jump. He even knew what I was thinking! “Not trusting ensures that when the knives come out, your first indication isn’t a stab in the back.”

“And when I need people to help me take on lots of ships?” I asked hotly. After waiting just long enough to convince me he hadn’t heard, he whispered:

“Control.”

I shivered. “Like you’re doing to me? How is it that you represent the spirit of the ocean when you can’t appreciate freedom? You’re all about domination!”

What I said made him angry. “You say I don’t have the seas’ blessing? I was old before you were a twinkle in your father’s eye. The sea is not a supportive mother – she is capricious and relentless. She will crush you without even noticing your despair!”

I wanted to disagree, but I couldn’t find the words. I knew he was right. I’d always known the sea was impartial and unforgiving, there was no arguing that. But how could that be all Jones saw?

“We’re not dissimilar, you and I.” Jones went on, in a more moderate tone. “That spirit – that similarity – is the reason one of the professions I offered was the one you chose. But the sea already has her avatar: me! For that reason, you’re going to have to learn. I’m going to have to teach your spirit to accept a leash if you’re going to serve me.”

“Men are the easiest animals to put on a leash,” I said, quoting a proverb I’d heard. “And the hardest to keep leashed.”

“So it would seem,” he agreed. “Watch yourself. If you won’t learn to submit, I’ll turn your leash into a noose and strangle you with it.”

With that parting comment, I could feel Jones’ mental presence leave. I hadn’t noticed I was able to recognize it until he deigned to converse with me. I muttered some nonsense under my breath – sometimes you just needed to mutter even if you had nothing intelligible to say.

“Captain?” Burdette called. He, the helmsman and several others were looking at me with concern as I bent over my charts muttering at nobody.

I moved briskly to the helm and took it. “Stand by, Mr. Burdette. As discussed.”

“Aye, sir.” He replied. It seemed as though he’d gotten over my loss of temper earlier. That or the man was simply very good at controlling his emotions.

I adjusted our course by several degrees and had the crew manning the lines set the sails to keep the wind in them. It was fortunate the wind was blowing along our course – if we’d been forced to head south along this channel instead it would have been at a snail’s pace.

Burdette kept me appraised of the speed of the vessels behind us. The Athair and Spirit of Retribution were both closing, but the Spirit was faster. That surprised me, but I guess its Commander Darius didn’t have the same seamanship level to keep up.

The Emerald had indeed stopped rather than attempt to navigate the waters. It remained to be seen whether they would attempt to circumnavigate the islands or stay in place as an observer and guardian against any attempt to double back – as foolish as doing so would be in these conditions.

As we headed northwest the western flanking vessel came into view. It was a cutter – fast and agile but lightly armored. I didn’t doubt that all of these vessels had been outfitted with the best that could be managed in the time they’d had, but a cutter against my cursed ship still wasn’t a contest.

Then it got into analyzing range, and I was reminded why I shouldn’t underestimate it.

The Hunter

Ship Class: Cutter

Captain: Lieutenant Davis

Ship Durability: 28,000/32,000

Ship Level: 3

The ship had a threat level of 3. The Death’s Consort only had a level of 4; two by virtue of my command and profession, and the other 2 based on my crew’s abilities and ship armaments. Whoever Lieutenant Davis was and whatever they’d done to their cutter had made a rather unprepossessing ship nearly as dangerous as me.

“Update on our course?” I asked Burdette. He swiftly ran the calculations and didn’t need to make any adjustments.

“We’re both right where we thought we’d be.”

“Good,” I replied. That meant that the depth would be enough for us to submerge before meeting the Hunter. The deserters could point towards us, but that ability was general in scope. Underwater, we’d be hidden from view as we changed the sails and came about. By the time our pursuers realized we’d changed direction and moved to pursue, we’d be sailing at speed for the east.

“The Hunter will realize we’re turning before the others do.” Burdette pointed out. “If they’re in communication with the others, they’ll talk.”

Storms! Why hadn’t I thought of that? If this Lieutenant Davis on the Hunter was as guileful as I suspected, they could blow the whistle on me and flip my whole maneuvering attempt on its head.

“We’ll have Sadeo firing at them to keep them occupied,” I said. Burdette just grunted.

We approached the Hunter head on while the two ships behind us continued to close the distance. The Hunter would try to pass by on our port side, strafing us with artillery, then swing around to catch up with us from behind to match our speed and exchange volleys. If we were stuck above the waves, they could do it.

“Sounding!” I ordered, even though my own seamanship skills were giving me a good indication of the depth. While a crewman put out the sounding line, Burdette whispered in my ear.

“We’re at just over 50 feet of depth now. Dive some and as the floor drops away we’ll dive some more.”

“If I dive at all now,” I replied. “They’ll know it’s what I intend and prepare to attack us with whatever tricks they have. Right now they think we’re rushing past. Better to wait until the last minute.”

“Last minute?” He asked. “They’ll start shooting in five minutes!”

“We still have time,” I said, tense. This reminded me a lot of our first battle. A wind mage could shoot some lightning bolts at us even before the ballistae were in range, but for the sake of maintaining our illusion I had to risk it.

“Depth, 62 feet!” Came the seaman’s call. Burdette looked at me as if to say ‘I told you so.’

I altered our course just slightly. Burdette noticed, and I explained: “I want him to think we’re going to ram him instead.”

“He’ll know you can’t risk doing that and escape!”

“But will he try and correct anyway? We’re gambling with illusions here, may as well stack a few more guesses on their plate.”

Burdette murmured something about my trickster title under his breath, but it didn’t sound complementary.

The cutter seemed to call my bluff on the ramming, or perhaps they were willing to pass us at a much closer firing range than necessary. Their ship seemed to rush forward, parting the water beneath their bow with minimal effort.

Gosh, time was moving fast.

I submerged the ship. I kept expecting them to turn and present a broadside to shoot at us before we slipped below the depths, but they kept coming, as though they intended to ram us.

It wouldn’t happen. The water was deep enough they could sail right over us now.

I began shouting orders as water flooded the deck, and the crew were in motion by the time I was spitting seawater with each word. They’d practiced this maneuver in the middle of a storm with hundred foot waves bearing down on them – they could handle this.

The cutter indeed kept coming, and I took to examining the bottom of their hull for any surprises. Why weren’t they adapting?

A shadow moved over the side of the cutter and made a huge splash as it moved beneath the surface. It was a several hundred pound boulder, shaped with a pointed tip and tapered end. Two more splashes followed it even as the danger of the first registered in my mind.

They’d been coming straight on because they needed to get an earth mage close enough to drop these monsters on us.

I opened my mouth to yell, but found I didn’t know what to say. ‘Brace for impact?’ ‘Avast?’ ‘Don’t get hit?’

The first hit our forecastle and broke straight through the upper deck. The stone seemed to have a momentum behind it greater even than its own weight. The second and third hit the main deck with similar results, just barely missing the masts and rigging. I couldn’t see anything beyond the holes they created in the deck, but I could see the ship durability points spiraling down much further than those holes would warrant.

I heard screams from below too. All the manpower we had meant this ship was crowded, and projectiles that large …

“Get a damage report,” I said to Burdette, even as I yelled at the men in the rigging to focus on what they were doing. We completed our turn, and I was incredibly thankful that the Hunter didn’t move to reengage us. I hoped that they’d thrown everything they had on us with that, surely the cutter couldn’t hold too many stones of that size and still move with speed?

I was hesitant to return to the surface, but turning around meant I had to follow the shallower sea floor back up or run aground. I decided not to surface completely, hiding the main deck from the sight of our enemies. I didn’t want them to know how effective that had been.

It sure seemed like it had been effective. Burdette hadn’t returned with the report yet.

I’d been counting on the Hunter being out of commission after we performed our maneuver, Sadeo was certainly proficient enough to send an explosive bolt at their rudder. But Sadeo hadn’t had a shot, and the cutter was still there keeping pace with us, even if they didn’t move to reengage.

We’d made some distance with the Spirit, but not the Athair. Apparently they’d gotten word at the same time, and since the Spirit was further out of position turning had brought them neck and neck with the Athair again.

Plus that dratted cutter off our starboard, hanging out just out of ballista range and making me nervous.

I gestured a waiting seaman over and gave him a message for Sadeo to do his darnest to cripple that ship. I wanted them gone.

As he departed, I did some quick speed calculations. All of us were moving slower going this direction: the wind dictated all. Yet we were moving a bit slower than we should have been. Having an extra thousand pounds of stone ballast on board could do that.

Burdette finally returned, took the situation in at a glance, and gave his report.

“There’s one stone in the galley, another wedged in the artillery deck and the third nearly made it to the bilges. I had all of them secured so they won’t roll and crush anyone else. Nine are dead, another eleven are crippled in Myota’s care. More injuries light enough to be dealt with later.”

Rather than cursing and saying what I felt like, I thanked the man for his report. He’d done well making sure those stones didn’t move around any more. One nearly in the bilges? That attack had nearly speared straight through the ship. If it had taken out our keel, I didn’t know that even a cursed ship could sail.

A thwap from our starboard side marked Sadeo taking a long shot at the cutter. A moment later a puff of green smoke could be seen on deck. Apparently Sadeo didn’t like his odds of taking out their rudder and went for poison instead. The explosive bolts probably would have been better – to be effective poison usually took a lot more …

You have slain the Captain of a level 3 enemy ship. +3,000 XP.

I could have kissed Sadeo right then. That little guy sure knew how to aim! The cutter might not be out of action, but I’d wager the next in command wouldn’t be nearly so competent or experienced. For a single poison bolt that was well worth it.

“Captain,” Burdette said. “We should assume that all of the ships have the means to hit us like the Hunter did.”

“Not all like that,” I said, thinking. “I’m sure they all have something, but I bet they diversified. If they all did the same thing, after all, an ineffective strategy would let us get away in the clear. I’m sure they each have something different to try. If they don’t manage to take us today they’ll spread the word of how best to fight us.” Bloody competent, well organized enemies.

Burdette looked at the ships behind us. “I’m not looking forward to seeing what it is.”

I looked as well, and let a few choice words escape my lips. “Why is the Athair staying behind the Spirit? It’s not that it’s slower – it’s deliberate.”

“It may have something to do with what weapons they have,” Burdette suggested. “The Spirit has the first half of whatever two-punch combo they’ve got organized.”

“Maybe,” I said. It would make sense, but I couldn’t imagine what they’d be trying. I read in the naval strategy book that if it could be pulled off, dousing a ship in oil and setting it ablaze was a winning technique – unless the ship had fire resistances. I didn’t have those resistances – another expenditure I couldn’t manage with Jones’ mandate on where to spend XP – but fire wasn’t a good weapon against me with how easily I could dodge beneath the waves.

Why was the Athair hanging back? It had been in the vanguard before.

“Sails ahead!” a lookout cried. Sure enough, the eastern flanking vessel was now coming into sight as well.

“Thoughts?” I asked Burdette softly.

“We’re too slow,” he replied in the same tone. “It was a good plan, but the Spirit will catch up to us …” he glanced at the other ships. “About the same time as we meet that other cutter.”

“My thoughts exactly.” I said. I looked at another seaman/messenger and told him to pull Arnnaith off the artillery support crew and send him to me. Burdette gave me a very neutral look, obviously annoyed that I was bringing the half-elf boy into our tactical discussion.

That was too bad. The boy had levels in the tactician skill, and had earned them somehow. I should have had him with me this whole time!

The boy reported quickly, scrambling up to the helm and only sparing a quick glare for Burdette. I explained what was going on to him.

“The question is, can we keep the cutter between us and the Spirit?” I mused. “Delay long enough to dive?”

“No,” Arnnaith replied curtly. “They’re in communication and coordinating with each other. In fact, if they thought you might even have a chance at getting away, the cutter would ram you.”

“They wouldn’t be so foolish,” Burdette said. I swear, the man took whatever position was opposite of Arnnaith, no matter what he’d thought earlier.

“They’d follow orders,” Arnnaith maintained. “Sacrifice themselves to delay us long enough for those other two boats to catch up.”

“So what do you think we should do, oh wise tree-rat?” Burdette said mockingly. Arnnaith and I both glared at him this time.

He pointed at the islands on our port. “Head between those. The other boats will follow, and as they catch up one at a time …”

“We can’t traverse between those,” Burdette interrupted. “The ones that aren’t shallow enough to strand a dinghy have reefs.”

I explained to the boy more gently. “To traverse those waters safely – if it can be done – we’d have to slow down to the point the others would catch us anyway.”

The boy contemplated the chart for a moment, his single level in seamanship trying to pull details from it that were perfectly obvious to Burdette and I. “Then you have to turn south and fight the Spirit.”

“Turn south?” Burdette said in mock amazement. “Why, what a brilliant idea! Let’s turn back the way we came and fight the ship that we’re trying to avoid fighting! While we’re at it, we can crawl back and take the Emerald out too!”

“You have to fight the Spirit,” the boy went on evenly, though his face was red. “It’ll happen now or later. Fight them now, and you can deal with the cutter on its own.”

“The Athair will catch up to us when we engage,” I said. “We’d be fighting both the warships.”

The boy gestured at the cutter ahead of us. “You’re telling me that you don’t think we can survive a direct clash if we keep on going! How come this idea is so terrible? You said the Athair was hanging back, why would they attack us then?”

“Opportunity!” Burdette said, but I waved for him to be quiet. Arnnaith had pretty much pointed out what had been clear from the start; we were trapped. Our options were limited, and none of them good.

“We turn south,” I said. As Burdette inhaled to shout what I knew was on his mind, I preempted him. “We’re slower now, but have an advantage they don’t: our sails generate speed from mana in the air even if the winds aren’t with us. Turning south is a terrible decision but it might even the playing field again.”

Burdette glowered. “This is a mistake, Captain.”

“Your alternative?” He was silent. “Very well. May the seas grant us mercy.”

We did what only a little while ago I had thought was a foolish move: turn back south. The Spirit would catch us soon, but it would be harder for the Athair to bridge the distance going against the wind. If the battle with the Spirit didn’t go too long, we could cripple them and get away before being forced to engage with the Athair.

It wasn’t a good plan, but our improvised council couldn’t think of any better. If anything, I should have stayed awake last night and charted a new course around the trap this area had become.

Maybe that simple action would have gotten me the tactician skill.

The tense hour following unfolded as predicted, the only surprise was that the Spirit seemed like she meant to board us rather than exchange artillery fire. That was all the better for us; we had numbers on our side.

Phillip and Zander headed up the groups on the sides armed mostly with spears and bows, while Hrothgar led the center. Any boarding party would immediately find themselves either impaled or facing a shield wall ready to shove them back over the side.

The ship approached from our starboard quarter. Sadeo made use of the scorpions that could aim in that direction to harangue them, to a positive effect. They didn’t return fire. Odd, I’d have thought they’d want to at least try to soften us up first.

I should have given it more thought. I should have, I should have, I should have …

When they came up alongside, all the enemy troops lined up to board us – about 30 in all – lowered their shields and extended clenched fists towards us. Their fists crushed the runes they held, runes like I’d used back on the Wind Runner to cast powerful spells even before I’d had magical talent. I saw the doom of my crew unfold even as Hrothgar gave a taunt to pull the combatants’ attention towards himself.

30 bolts of lightning smashed into the conveniently massed fighters on deck, obliterating defenses. Nearly a dozen targeted Hrothgar specifically, and then the men around him once he fell dead – his magnificent beard and hair burning even as it tried to stand on end from the electricity.

Even as my reeling crew tried to understand how the entire enemy force was throwing spells at them, the Spirit’s fighters pulled out another stone and crushed it. Moments later the earth spell within was sent into my fighters in the form of stone shrapnel. A few archers and spearmen retaliated, striking a few of the enemy down, but not enough to make a difference. Desperately, I turned the ship to try and create distance. Not in time to get out of range of the third and final rune they’d prepared: a cascade of fireballs. They struck their targets and exploded, coating everyone in a certain radius with clinging flames.

The Spirit let us pull away, and even cut its speed to fall behind us again. I told Burdette to take the helm. Jumping off the quarterdeck, I rushed not to any of the injured but to the artillery deck. Rushing to Sadeo, I seized his arm.

“I want you to make that ship pay!” I said. I realized that I was seeing red. “I want you to kill their captain, their fighters, sink them!”

Sadeo barked an order to his crews before turning to me and peeling my fingers from around his arm. “Yeah, we’ll do that Dom. As long as we can shoot at them, we’ll take our shots. But you need to get a grip, kid. Take a breath, then figure out whatever sailing shenanigans come next, okay? We’ve got the artillery side covered.”

I saw that Sadeo hadn’t needed any encouragement at all, and everyone was loaded with explosive or fire bolts.

I wasn’t thinking clearly. I hadn’t been thinking clearly. I was just a seaman, not an admiral!

I went back up topside. Seeing fire still burning, I thought of one thing I could do. It wasn’t deep enough to sail under the waves, but I could get away with lowering the main deck below the waterline. That would put out the fires and maybe give some relief to the burned.

Except I couldn’t. For the first time since I’d discovered how, I couldn’t control the depth of my ship.

The vessel Athair has restricted your ship’s ability to dive! You are unable to alter the depth of your ship.

Turning in horror to the ship remaining just out of reach, I realized what it was they were tasked with doing. I recognized the magic being used as the same type that had erected an impassable barrier for me back in Tulisang. Only now, that barrier was horizontal and kept me from employing the best trick I had.

My ship was burning, I had dead crewmen lying in heaps, and the only reason I wasn’t still being attacked was because they were taking the time to tighten the noose.