Caleb drew one of his pistols and went back to the railing. Rory and Ferris stood at his side, rifles in hand. The Savage had closed to within ten yards of the Spitfire, exposing its steerboard bow quarter as the sloop swung past. Beyond the Savage, the three other Gilarskan pinnaces had shifted course to head their way.

Screens blinked at the edge of his vision. He swiped them away like an annoying cloud of gnats. But not before he caught a glimpse of what they read.

Adventurer's-Level Quest: Attempt to bluff a way through the Gilarskan pinnace blockade. Bonus of 20% to the next completed quest if this can be done without initiating combat. STATUS: FAILED New Veteran Adventurer's-Level Quest: Attempt to fight a way through the Gilarskan pinnace blockade. Alternatively, free your ship from combat and escape. STATUS: ONGOING

The enemy vessel’s deck spread out before him. It swarmed with armed men, shouting and shaking their cutlasses as they prepared to board. He ignored them and focused on the half-dozen or so enemy clustered around the pinnace’s mast. They were busy reloading their rifles.

“There! Aim for the riflemen!” Caleb ordered.

He brought up his pistol, squinted, and squeezed the trigger. Rory and Ferris did the same an instant later. The double report of their guns rang in his ear. Two of the riflemen aboard the pinnace dropped where they stood. The rest ducked as splinters from the base of the mainmast flew past.

Caleb coughed as he inhaled gunpowder smoke from the triple discharge. The tingle in his nostrils smelt both acrid and invigorating. He did his best to peer through the cloud as the breeze dissipated it.

The sloop’s deck remained tilted at an angle as Donal continued to keep the Spitfire in a hard larboard turn. The Savage continued straight on her course, bringing her steerboard side within a couple yards from the Spitfire’s. Caleb spotted his gun crew, who were still waiting by the mainmast, ready to go into action.

“Quinton!” he shouted. “Both of our steerboard cannon are loaded, get them into the fight!”

“But Captain!” the thin redhead shouted back, “We can’t depress the guns enough to hit the Savage! They’re too close!”

“Then shoot at the other ships out there!” Caleb roared back. “Give their friends something to think about!”

Suddenly, a whistling filled the air. Something flew past Caleb’s face and landed on the deck nearby with a clank. All along the Spitfire’s length, grappling hooks landed on the deck.

Razor-sharp steel tines slid across the deck with a metallic hiss as the men aboard the pinnaces hauled on their lines. A couple bounced over the side without catching onto anything. Many more dug into the wood planks along the transom. One caught a sailor’s pant leg and came close to dragging him overboard before it tore through the frayed cloth.

The triple-barbed hook that landed next to Caleb slid towards the edge and stuck fast. Yet even as the line went taut, Tavia swung her horn, cutting the heavy rope with ease.

“Good work,” he said, as he pulled his cutlass.

The mare nodded back. “My horn works as well as a cutlass for this work.”

Someone handed Sienna the ship’s hatchet. Rifle fire peppered the air as she charged forward across the main deck, swinging the tool in one hand. With a series of thwocks! she parted line after line with the hatchet’s sharpened blade.

Yet it wasn’t enough. In three places, men wearing a ragged mix of sailor’s garb or Gilarskan doublets swarmed aboard. The first few were felled by point-blank pistol fire. Then the clang of sword against sword rang out on deck in two of the three spots.

At the third, the first pair of boarders hauled themselves up into the golden-eyed glare of an angry griffin. Shaw let out a feline snarl. The two men yelped, let go of the line, and landed in the water below with a splash.

“Pitiful!” Shaw scoffed, as he slashed the rope attached to the grapple with a talon. “‘Twas not even a contest.”

Quinton’s gun crew crowded around the forward cannon on the steerboard side. They finished aiming the weapon, breaking routine twice to parry attempts by the boarding parties to interrupt their work. Finally, the gun’s hammer was pulled to the fully cocked position.

Quinton took the trigger line in hand. He raised a hand and looked to Caleb, signaling that the gun was ready to fire. Caleb nodded in return.

A boom! staggered the gun crew as the Spitfire fired one of its cannon in anger for the first time. The long-barreled weapon bucked in its carriage, straining the restraining ropes, and let out a plume of black smoke.

The twelve-pound iron ball passed over the Savage. It tore a neat round hole in the Reckless’ mainsail, then flew on further to strike the next ship beyond. The crack of shattering wood echoed across the distance as the Wild fell out of line, her damaged boom swinging loose amidst a tangle of severed lines.

Closer in, a second volley of rifle fire came from the Savage, followed by yet more grappling hooks. Caleb ducked as one set came his way. The heavy hook bounced off the transom and landed in the water. The five men assigned to the line on the pinnace’s deck began to quickly haul it back in.

Caleb stole a quick glance at his Vital Statistics Window. A small sliver of yellow shone back at him from the Magical Stamina gauge. He thought furiously.

Maybe that’s enough to use. For something small, perhaps?

He pulled up the spell he wanted in his mind.

Change Metal Object’s Buoyancy

Caleb cast it on the grapple in the water. A bloop! and the hook sank as if it were a ton of solid lead. The attached line followed it with a loud zipping sound, tearing open two of the haulers’ hands and pulling the other three screaming into the water.

Once again, Caleb was rewarded with a familiar screen.

WARNING: MAGICAL STAMINA 100% DRAINED. YOUR ABILITY TO CAST SPELLS HAS BEEN TEMPORARILY DISCONTINUED.

“Dammit,” he muttered, as he looked across the way. “We’ve got to get free!”

The enemy pinnace still had two lines attached to them. Vicious fights swirled about where the boarding parties held their own. Quinton’s gun crew had to take part, bashing at the intruders with swords or ramming rods. Shaw struggled to join the combat, but he had to pause and slash away any new grapple that had been thrown aboard.

Meanwhile, the Reckless had swung about, seeking to pass their fellow ship aft and attack from the opposite side. The Wild was still trying to get back underway, but her sister ship Fierce had taken her place and would be within grappling range in a few minutes.

“I think I can put a stop to the boarding parties,” Tavia said. “It’ll be risky, though.”

Caleb didn’t hesitate. “Do it!”

The unicorn curled her head around to her flank as if nibbling at an itch. She bit into one of the red beads wrapped securely in her mane. With a flex of her jaw, she yanked it off and bit into the scarlet sphere.

Caleb heard a crunch! as if she’d bitten into a piece of hard candy. With a flick of her head, She sent the bead sailing across the water. It bounced off the Savage’s sail and landed on the pinnace’s deck next to the mainmast.

Tavia’s bead detonated with a paf! and a flare of red-hot flames. The riflemen standing by the mast screamed and jumped away as their leggings caught fire. One dropped a horn filled with gunpowder as he did so.

The container detonated with a kabam! that knocked down the nearest group of men. Flames licked up the mast until the sail caught fire with a gut-churning whump. Sailors in the midst of climbing ropes to board the Spitfire turned and jumped back down, now more concerned with saving their ship.

A creak of canvas sounded on board the sloop as Donal completed the turn and brought the northern wind back into their favor. The remaining fights on deck ended as the boarders were hacked down or shoved overboard.

“Come on!” Caleb said, as the ship came about and their pursuers fell out of sight astern. “This isn’t over yet.”

Tavia, Rory, and Ferris followed him down from the forecastle. Bodies sprawled across the planks, making it difficult to avoid slipping on the bloody deck. Harper O’Breen was already at work, cleaning and stitching up one man’s arm wound where he sat against the larboard rail.

“We held them off, Captain!” Sienna said triumphantly, though she was flushed and breathing hard. She held a bloody hatchet in one hand like a trophy.

“Well done!” Caleb replied. “Let’s hope we don’t have to do that again.”

“Speak for thyself!” Shaw said gruffly. “‘Tis hardly worthy to be called more than a scuffle. A repeat might be necessary to for all to test their mettle!”

“Let’s…just put a pin in that idea for the moment.” Caleb said, as he and his group made their way back up to the quarterdeck. He glanced to Donal for a moment. “Steady as she goes, keep us running before the wind. It’s not our top speed, but it’ll keep us ahead of the Gilarskans.”

He got a Yezzir as he continued up the steps to the afterdeck and took in the view over the sloop’s stern.

In the middle distance and falling behind was the Savage. Smoke rose from the tatters of her sail. The crew had pulled the canvas down and had stamped the fire out.

However, the Reckless followed close by in the Spitfire’s wake, just outside of rifle range. The Fierce lay right behind her, with the Wild only slightly behind on the steerboard quarter.

They’re stacked up like airplanes at a crowded airport, Caleb realized. Any one of them grapples us, the other two will be on us as well in less than a minute. That’s three-to-one odds facing my crew in a hand-to-hand fight!

As if reading his mind, Tavia said quietly: “I have more red beads.”

“And they’re too dangerous for us to use,” he replied, his voice tight. “We got lucky back there. If we’re grappled and in tight quarters with those ships, you could set us on fire just as easily as the enemy.”

“Captain!” Donal’s voice called. “Lookouts have spotted the Stone Angel. She’s still grounded, but she’ll be coming up on our larboard quarter. We’ll be within range of her broadside in the next few minutes!”