'We've struck a reef!' cried one of the ship's crew.
'No,' called Rings. 'We've lost another timber below the water line.'
'We're lost! We're sunk!' screamed Turbalt.
'Ye're right about that, at least,' grumbled Rings. He was busy strapping his axes tightly to his back. The other Sharkers followed his example and gathered their belongings. Some of the crewmen were doing the same, while others-including Turbalt himself-had already flung themselves into the water and begun swimming to avoid the deadly suction of a sinking vessel.
'Ready?' asked Belmer. He had made a pack for himself, including a lantern and a long coil of rope, which he handed to Anvil. The big man looped it over his thick shoulder without comment. The Sharkers all touched their gear one last time, hoping it wasn't too much to carry to shore. One by one, they nodded and said, 'Aye.'
'Abandon ship.'
Chapter Two
Sharessa loved the sunset best near the shore. The open sea was too vast for its molten beauty. A million waves reflected and dispersed the dying light, diluting it with boundless distance. Near land, however, she could see the sun descend hot and swollen into the darkening horizon, casting purple shadows over the green hills. Sharessa could vanish into those shadows, silent and invisible, one with her namesake, the goddess of shadows.
Such escape would be a comfort after the past week of catastrophe and loss. Sharessa thought about how much had passed since they had agreed to follow Belmer.
At first, Sharessa and the other Sharkers had fallen into the old patterns of obedience. Belmer assumed command with such confidence that none questioned him-not even Kurthe, at first. It was more comfortable to follow than to lead, especially in the wake of the Kissing Shark's destruction. Ovrim Redbeard, a vicious rival, had burned their ship; their captain, Blackfingers Ralingor, had been a casualty of the disaster. Redbeard would have killed the rest of them back in Tharkar, if a surprising benefactor hadn't helped them escape.
Belmer had filled Blackfingers's place quickly, proving his promises with quick action. He had seen them safely out of the Tavern of the Masques, all right. He had even led them to a safe house below the Ankle Bells and discarded the fiction of his 'Ambassador Droon' identity as soon as they were safe from pursuit. He'd asked for their trust, and he'd seemed to earn it. At least they'd had no better offers.
Moreover, Belmer offered payment beyond anything Sharessa had ever earned from pirating. Perhaps they had been too quick to jump at such an outrageous sum, but they were leaderless and hunted. Belmer's insistence on contracts did much to allay their suspicions. This they had seen before. It was just business.
Now Sharessa wasn't so sure it was good business. As their journey continued, they kept learning more about Belmer. He shed his disguise in Redbeard's first attack, and later he told them that they were to find a kidnapped woman and kill her.
Every time Sharessa thought she was beginning to understand the man, he removed another ruse, revealing another story she was sure would turn out to be yet another ruse. How could they trust him?
Finally, when Kurthe defied Belmer, the little man proved himself a cold and deadly swordsman. Sharessa wanted to believe that Belmer had given Kurthe a chance to obey by drawing out the fight, but Anvil and Brindra seemed sure that Belmer was just playing with him, using his death as an example to the others. If so, the lesson had worked.
Still, the Sharkers were more afraid of drowning than of Belmer. Not so long ago, they had escaped the burning wreckage of their previous ship, the Kissing Shark. In the aftermath of Redbeard's surprise attack, the surviving Sharkers had swum through cold, black waters, the horrid odor of their burning shipmates in every gasping breath. The stink of hot pitch was far preferable.
'We keep outlasting our ships,' said Jolloth Bur-buck. He stood beside Sharessa, turned away from the sun. The scars on his face grew deep and black in the shadows. Everyone who knew him called him 'the Anvil' for his battered visage, but Shar also knew it was for his iron toughness. She nodded sadly and turned to follow his gaze, past the shore, where the beached crew of the Morning Bird slumped dejectedly, toward the listing mast of their sunken ship. The rest of the Tharkaran caravel lay beneath the surf, its hull sundered by magical rot.
Near Anvil and Sharessa, Brindra pushed herself up from the beach, slapping sand off her clothes with hands like thick slabs of pork. The muscles of her arms rippled in contrast to her barrel-shaped torso. As she rose, she towered over Rings, who stood with his own hairy arms crossed upon his chest. Together, the fat woman and the bald dwarf were the ugliest of the Sharkers. They looked right standing next to each other.
'Fortune smiles on the Sharkers,' said Rings with a wink.
'Those the sea hasn't swallowed,' countered Brindra with a scowl. There had been no distracting her since Belmer killed Kurthe. Sharessa knew that Brindra would never forgive that particular act of 'discipline' from Belmer, even though their employer had transfixed the hot-headed Sharker with the same dagger Kurthe had thrown at him.
Behind Brindra and Rings stood Belgin and Ingrar, the two Edenvalers. Belgin wheezed and stroked his chin as if preparing to make some witty remark. Instead, he coughed into his fist. While fit enough for sailing and fighting, the chubby gambler seemed perpetually ill.
'It's getting dark,' said Ingrar. His damp clothes clung to his youthful frame, and he shivered. But his eyes followed the dark-haired Sharesssa and the rivulets of water that ran down her tawny skin and coursed beneath her low-cut shirt.
Anvil nodded. 'Where's Belmer? We should move inland before making camp.'
Sharessa shook her head. 'He was talking to the crew of the Morning Bird. He's in the forest now.'
'Maybe he's decided to head to Eldrinpar by himself,' suggested Ingrar. He looked worried, like a country boy who has lost track of his father in the city market. He peered into the dense woods, then closed his eyes to listen for any sound when he saw nothing.
'Good riddance, if he did,' said Brindra. Rings put a hand on her thick biceps, but she shrugged it off angrily.
'But we have contracts,' said Ingrar petulantly. Shar had to look again to see that the swim hadn't shrunk the young man back into a small child. He was more shaken by recent setbacks than anyone.
'Contracts mean little to a man who'll kill his own crew,' spat Brindra.
'Hsst!' Ingrar hissed a warning. 'You never know when he'll walk up behind you.'
Brindra sneered, making her homely face even uglier. 'We're out in the open. Unless he can hide behind a grain of sand…'
Rings turned his head suddenly, staring behind Brindra with eyes wide and mouth open. The big woman whirled, seeing nothing but empty beach behind her. Rings chuckled when Brindra tried to glare at him. She lost her stern expression when Sharessa covered her mouth to hide her own smile.
'Why, you miniature…'
'Belmer had no choice,' said Rings, shifting back to the subject at hand. 'Ye saw what happened, and y' know how Kurthe is.'
'Was, you mean.' Brindra tried to recover her menacing tone, but Rings had dulled her anger. 'I know I'd rather have Kurthe here with us than that black snake. At least with Kurthe you knew what to expect. Belmer lies to us, and he vanishes every time-'
'Enough,' said Shar coldly. 'Kurthe is dead.'
'Let's finish our job,' said Anvil, suddenly breaking his heavy silence. 'The pay is more than we've ever seen before,' said the brawny pirate, as the others turned to look at him. 'When we're done, we'll choose our own captain.' He looked pointedly at Sharessa.
Brindra grunted and looked at the sand. The others nodded, the dwarfs rings jingling faintly.
Sharessa shook back damp ringlets from her face and squared her slender shoulders. 'Let's see what Turbalt's men salvaged from the ship. Maybe-'
'There he is,' said Belgin. They all looked to where the pale Edenvaler pointed, and there was Belmer
